


Painting from memory

by CMDAK



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Amnesiac Q, Death from Old Age, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-15
Updated: 2015-07-07
Packaged: 2018-03-30 16:08:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 29,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3943054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CMDAK/pseuds/CMDAK
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lord Bond stumbles and falls for a painter in the market and decides to whisk him away to his court. He manages to make the young man fall for him, but he is called away on business by his friend and former lover Alec on another continent and he promises to send for Q when everything is settled. But life is harsh and Q gets lost at sea and is thought to be dead, breaking Bond's heart while at the same time, Alec friend finds a young amnesiac washed up on the beach.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ...I am so sorry. I do not know how this happened. It was supposed to be a short piece, as usual.  
>  Please enjoy and excuse any and all mistakes. 
> 
> Ps: No Alec in this chapter.

Everyone in the small city was in love with Lord Bond. Then again who wouldn’t love a tall man with blond hair, eyes so blue that they made the sky on a sunny day jealous, killer smile always in place and heart bigger than his fortune? Women stepped on each other to get to dance with him at festivals and there were rumours that man duelled for his attention more than for the honour of their betrothed. And the Lord loved each and every one who caught his eye, but no more than a month.

 

He’d suddenly send them away from his estate, boxes full money, silk and jewels that made up more than necessary for what he’d taken from the former maidens and which would ensure their future no matter what the bed sheet showed on their wedding night. Even so, he was still loved and craved and parents pushed their offspring in his arms, all hoping that the fruit of their loins would finally be the one to tie the right and handsome Lord down.

 

Q was a painter who was constantly covered in all sorts of colours that lived on the outskirts of the city in a tiny little shack, on nothing more than bread and cheese. He could buy more food, but art supplies were very expensive and it didn’t help that he had glasses which always broke after two weeks. He could spend a bit more and get a new pair, but his whole world and life being his paintings and drawings, always putting that before anything else.

 

He sold his various paintings in the city’s market, looking so skinny and pitiful that the people from the other stands always pushed food on him - Q always offered them little sketches because he did not beg for food or accept hand-outs.

 

“You’ll waste away with food right under your nose because of how stubborn and prideful you are,” a woman of a respectable age that sold fruits right next to him scolded him, shaking her head. “Those are not traits for common folk like us, Q and don’t roll your eyes at me! I only have your best interest at heart, you ungrateful little imp.” She raised her hand at him and pretended to hit him, rubbing the mop of unruly brown hair.

 

“I just do not think it fair to profit off of anyone,” he always explained, grabbing her dry and battered hand to plant a butterfly kiss on her bruised knuckles. “And I assure you, my fair and well-aged woman that the sketches I keep on giving you will be worth a lot one day.”

 

The woman smiled up until the comment about being well aged and grabbed an apple which she tossed at Q’s head, missing him and hitting the partially finished painting. “Young people these days have no respect for the ones who care for them.” She ignored the offended look Q gave her while pointing at his painting. “My daft girl also has grand dreams of that dashing Lord Bond one day passing by the cloth store she’s an apprentice at and falling in love with her.” She turned her head to the side and spat as if she had tasted the most rotten fruit in the world. “You two are both soft in the head, you hear me?”

 

Q laughed, focusing back on his painting, making notes to paint something like that for the young woman and present it to her on her birthday or something. It was the least he could do for the daughter of the woman who acted like she was his mother and it was a perfect excuse to draw the stunning Lord.

 

There was something that he would never admit to anyone else and that was that he too had fallen for the fair lord just like everyone else. But in his defense, he was a painter, after all and he was predisposed to falling for things that were pleasant looking. Q actually had at least twenty sketches and five fully finished sketches of Lord Bond which he looked at every night before he went to sleep. Those were the only ones he would never sell and if he was ever asked what his most valuable items were, he would name those creations without missing a heartbeat.

 

“We sometimes love to dream of things we could never even get close to,” Q whispered after half an hour of silence, finally coming out of his world when the painting was almost done. “We can only dream, right?” He thought it odd that the market had gone silent, but there was something that looked off in his creation so he concentrated on fixing it. “Some of us live on those dreams, put them on paper and show them to the world to be mocked, ridiculed or loved and liked.”

 

“And are there people who are blind enough to mock yours?” A man’s deep and smooth voice asked from behind him, startling Q hard enough for him to drop his brush on the ground. “I’m sorry; I thought you were aware that I was right behind you.”

 

Q was still focusing on his painting, face breaking out into a smile when he realized that the problem he had with his painting was actually the man’s shadow. “I tend to forget about reality when I am painting. But that is strange, because I usually feel when people are looking at me or when they are right behind me, ” he explained and picked the brush up, only to drop it again when he saw how close he was to the most desired man.

 

He looked so out of place in the middle of the filthy market and so close to dirty Q, a long dark blue robe with red and gold patterns running down the front, the Bond family emblem sewn right in the centre, two thick golden chains connecting the robe to a short red cape whose collar was lined with fur . “I am sorry for not noticing you, my lord,” he apologized once he managed to stop staring at him, taking a step back and lowering his head, not knowing what else to do.

 

The man looked at him with amusement before turning his attention to Q’s painting, hands clasped behind his back. He was silent for five agonizingly long minutes and Q’s patience had run out, shifting his weight from one leg to another despite the old woman - who had snuck to sit by his side, broom tightly clutched in her hands as if it was a weapon constantly pinching his leg and shaking her head at him.

 

“What is your name?” Lord Bond asked, wanting to run his fingers over something in the painting, only to have the artist grab his hand.

 

“It’s still wet and if you touch it now, you’ll ruin it,” Q almost shrieked and slapped his hands away before he realized just whose hands he had

 

The crowd gasped and the two armed guard took a step towards Q, the old woman pushing him behind her and lifting her broom. But the Lord laughed and waved the men away, tilting his head to catch a glimpse of the slightly shaking man. “I watched you work on it for ten minutes and yet it slipped my mind that it needed to dry, so I apologize.” He winked at him and grabbed the old woman’s hand, pulling her close to him and the back of her hand. “But what a mother you have! Ready to fight off my well trained soldiers with a broom.”

 

“I am not this whelp’s mother, although I look after him and try to teach him as if he were my own,” the woman said in a shaky voice, face red despite the fact that she wanted to appear tough and unaffected by his charm. But she almost went slack against his chest when he started to sway with her to a song only he heard, pulling her away from the frozen young man, finally twirling her a few times and making her dizzy before stepping away from her.

 

“Oh dear lady, you appear to be sick. Please allow one of my men to see to you and make sure that there is nothing truly wrong with you.” He turned his attention back to the dirty painter and vaguely waved his hand in the woman’s direction, a short man with white hair appearing from nowhere, starting to check her over.

 

“You are a very sly man, my lord” Q muttered, tense and ready to dart away at the first sign of danger or violence. Yes, he dreamed of the man and yes, people looked upon him as if he was the sun, but Q didn’t know how he would react at getting his hands slapped by a dirty peasant.

 

Lord Bond flashed Q a smile and returned to looking at the painting. “And you are a very talented one, although you lacked manners. You have yet to give me your name, or maybe you are without one?”

 

“Q.” He said as he pushed his glasses back up his nose, trying to hold back a smile at the confused look the noble gave him. “My name is a single letter and that letter is Q.” Starting to fidget again under the intense gaze, he rubbed his neck. “Some say that my parents were so poor that they couldn’t afford more than one letter while others say that it stands for how many brothers or sisters I had before me, meaning I was my mother’s 17th child.”

 

“You know the alphabet and how to count, something that manages to baffle and remain a mystery to a lot of nobles,” Lord Bond whispered, eyes wide and filled with surprise. “That is a very unusual name that’s fit for a very unusual and fascinating person.”

 

Despite his best attempts, Q blushed just like a woman and he quickly turned his face away, trying to keep what was left of his pride. “What they say about my lord’s charm is true.”

 

“Only good things, I hope.” He chuckled when Q nodded and softly grabbed his shoulder, pulling him by his side. “Tell me, how much do you want for this painting, Q?”

 

His eyes narrowed, going over every colour he used and how much of it adding a bit more when his stomach growled. “Twenty-one pieces of silver.” he said, nodding. He realized it was expensive and promised to never use so much paint on something ever again because there were very few people who could afford buying it.

 

“Twenty-one?” The lord asked, turning to look at Q. “Are you sure?”

 

He looked at the painting again and decided he could go with just the bread a few days. “Fifteen pieces? I really cannot got any lower, my lord” He tried again, heart skipping a beat when he felt the lord’s hand under his chin, pushing his head up and forcing him to look in his eyes.

 

“Maybe you need a new pair of glasses,” the lord said softly, brushing Q’s chin with his thumb and getting yellow paint on it. “Add to that also two gold coins and,” he took a step back and looked Q up and down, shaking his head as he pushed the coins in his hand, squeezing it. “A set of new clothes. I cannot tell if you actually have some on or if you wrapped rags on yourself.”

 

He opened his mouth to argue, but the old woman was instantly by his side, putting her hand over his mouth. “You honour him so, my lord.” She said loudly and bowed down, pulling Q down with her. “Don’t you dare argue with Lord Bond and try to get him to give you less, you fool!” She hissed.

 

“It’s too much,” Q said quickly, grunting when the woman stepped on his foot. “It is,” he turned to argue with her, grabbing the lord’s hand and pushing the pieces of gold back only to end up trapped in the other man’s strong grip. “I do not doubt my talent or my hard work, but this is a simple piece, something you see every day in this market.”

 

“And yet you looked with so much love at it while doing it and used more paint than in your others,” Lord Bond explained, using his grip on Q’s hands to turn him towards the other three paintings that were leaned against a wall. “And let me add that they are beautiful in their own right, might I add. You are truly talented and I think that what I want to buy is worth two gold coins. Maybe even more.”

 

“Too much is too much.” Q insisted, lips forming a thing line, eyes narrowed. “And I look at everything I paint like that.”

 

The noble took a step closer and bumped his nose against Q’s, grinning. “Then I’ll have you paint me,” he said softly, his breath brushing against the younger man’s face. “I’ll pay extra for that, of course and you will have to wear what I insist on buying you because you cannot insult my home by coming in like this.” He brushed his fingers down Q’s chest and tugged at the edge of the ragged and stained tunic he was wearing. “I’ll give you two gold coins for all four paintings and you will not argue, understood?” The two coins were slipped back in Q’s hand and the lord stepped back, tapping the younger man’s nose. “Good major Boothroyd, keep young Q company and make sure he is not robbed,” he instructed before winking and disappearing, two soldiers walking behind him with the newly bought pieces of art.

 

Q stared after the lord’s red cape until he no longer saw it, the crowd moving after him, applauding and cheering for how nice and kind he’d been to a poor peasant boy. “That’s my lord for you,” someone said from Q’s right, scaring the young man who bolted to hide behind the old woman. “Lad, you scare easier than a cat,” the old man said, laughing. “I am Lord Bond’s armorer and weapon expert and your bodyguard for today.”

 

The three spend the day together, Q continuing to sketch after giving the major his two golden coins for safe keeping while the Major himself seemed to be fascinated by whatever the old woman was telling him. Small groups of people started to stop and whisper among themselves while looking at the dirty young man who had caught the beloved Lord’s eye, some buying the sketches for the little sum Q asked for them - 30 to 35 copper pieces while others scoffed at him and accused him of thinking to highly of himself.

 

“It’s what he usually asks for sketches, you pack of rats!” The old woman shouted at the ones who took it too far, the major stepping by Q’s side and flashing them a tight smile, hand resting on the ornate hilt of his sword.

 

When the sun finally went down, the woman packed up her things, Q helping her and carrying some of the boxes even though she insisted that he was too skinny to do it. The Major agreed and took them out of Q’s hands, smiling at the woman as he followed her. A young, petite woman joined them, Q explaining to the major that she was the woman’s daughter.

 

“Your father must be proud to have such a lovely young thing for a daughter,” the major said and bowed.

 

“Her father, God rest his soul or the devil fry it for eternity, died ten years ago,” the woman intervened. “Not that we noticed since the man was too busy looking for the bottom of the bottle every damned night to remember he had a family which needed to see his face.”

 

The daughter noticed the major’s attempt at keeping his lips in a straight line and elbowed Q in the ribs to show him, covering her mouth with her hands as she giggled. “Think the major fancies my mom,” She whispered and Q nodded, both trying to look innocent when the woman turned her sharp eye on them.

 

“I can hear a pin drop on grass from ten kilometres away,” she warned, wagging her finger in their direction while the major looked between them and blinked confusedly. “Kids and their love for gossip,” she muttered and shook her head when she heard her daughter laugh again. “Missy love, did you know Q met Lord Bond today?”

 

That sent the girl in a screaming fit, latching herself on to Q’s arm and scolding him for not telling her about it earlier, asking him to tell her everything. How was he dressed, did he have any ladies with him, was he free, were his eyes as blue as it was said and so no. Poor Q tried to keep his answers as short and to the point as possible since he was sure that the Major would report his every word to his lord, unable to keep his face going red every time he remembered how close the man had been to him.

 

The old woman thanked Q and the Major for the help, blushing beet red when the older man took her hand in his and kissed it. Missy tried to get Q to eat with them even after he had refused her mother a couple of times, the old woman throwing her hands up in the air and promising to pull her over her knee and slap her in front of the market for everyone to see if she did not leave Q be.

 

“And don’t think your scrawny ass is safe from my wrath if I hear you forgot to eat again, Q,” she continued to threaten, tugging on his ear a bit.

 

“Do not worry lady…Oh dear me, I seem to have forgotten my manners,” the major said, actually shocked.

 

The old woman giggled and blushed, turning away from the major. “Call me Mildred, mister Boothroyd. “ She proceeded to pinch the man’s cheeks before turning with a full glare at Q and pushing an apple in his hands.

 

Q thought the major would leave after that, but the old man continued to follow him, talking about all sorts of interesting things he came up with, Q trying to sketch how he thought they would look. “Simply marvellous, my boy.” The major would exclaim every time he looked over the younger man’s shoulder, clapping his hands in front of him. “To think you are able to draw them just after hearing my vague descriptions. You even added some parts on my machines that will make them more useful! Might I buy them from you?”

 

But Q refused and simply gave him the sketches, running to his little house when he saw it, waving at the man over his shoulder and thanking him. The Major gave chase, of course, surprisingly catching up with the young man and thrusting the two gold coins Lord Bond had given him earlier alongside ninety pieces of silver.

 

“Cease your protests before you even start them, young man.” Boothroyd said, crossing his arms over his chest. “What kind of man would I be if I did not give you what you deserve?” He brought a hand up and covered the side of his face that was visible to the street. “And do you want my lord to be upset with me? Maybe even behead me?” He couldn’t keep his serious face at how terrified Q looked and broke into laughter. “I am kidding, my boy! But it still wouldn’t be right for me to keep what is yours. Now off to bed you go and I will be back to pick you up tomorrow morning to buy you clothe, just as my lord wanted.”

 

Q closed the door behind him, bolting it as best as he could, afraid that word of him getting so much money had already spread and reached the ears of his less friendly neighbours that favoured clubs, knives and breaking into people’s homes over honest work. When he was satisfied, he continued to draw well into the night, nibbling on the apple every now and then, finally falling asleep on a half-finished portrait of Lord Bond.

 

He was jolted out of his sleep by someone kicking his door down and he jumped up faster than whatever he had dreamt jumped out of his head. A soldier appeared and grabbed his collar, dragging him out of the house before he could say anything, other walking in after them and taking every piece of paper they could find and whatever personal objects they found.

 

“I stole nothing!” Q yelled when a soldier showed him the little rag in which he had hidden the gold coins. “Lord Bond gave them to me!” He insisted and tried to dig his feet in the ground, yelping with another soldier lifted his limbs and carried him over to a carriage which looked too beautiful and comfortable to be a jail wagon.

 

The door opened and Lord Bond appeared, face contorted in anger and when Q saw that, he increased his struggle, kicking at the air and trying to claw at the soldiers’ heads. He thought that, once morning came, the lord realized that he did not like the paintings after all and he felt himself cheated out of his gold and he was there to punish him – although Q never heard any stories about Lord Bond ever being truly upset, insulted or personally seeing to someone being punished.

 

“This is anything but careful,” he said in a low growl and the soldiers instantly put Q back on the ground, fingers painfully digging into his arms to keep him from running. Q bit his lip and tried to keep from flinching when the Lord walked closer to him, slapping the soldier’s hands away before rubbing his hands down his arms. “I’m sorry, but my men are really jumpy around this place,” he muttered, checking Q over. “They did not hurt you too much, did they?”

 

Q’s attempts to edge away from the lord were stopped by the blond man wrapping him in his long, dark blue cape, pushing him towards his carriage. “If my lord is displeased with the paintings he has bought, I assure you that I did not touch the coins you have given me,” Q started to say. “All I ask is that you give them back to me and do not toss them in a fire or—“

 

Bond’s loud laughter interrupted Q and the young man tilted his head back to look at the man’s face, confused. “Toss them in a fire? You must be half mad, Q.” Bond rubbed the side of his face against Q’s head, ignoring the soot he got on himself. “The good old major showed me what you sketched last night and I decided that I really have to have you for myself.”

 

“I’m sorry?” Q panicked, starting to struggle again. “I remember nothing of what your armorer and weapon master has designed, I promise. Please do not lock me up,” he pleaded, afraid that he would never be able to paint or draw anything else again except for prison bars and shackles.

 

“You misunderstand me, boy. I do not wish to imprison you, I wish to take you under my wing and make you my personal painter. You’ll live on my property, eat my food, and dress in actual clothes, not rags. All you have to do is paint for me.” He turned Q around so he could see his face and caressed his cheek, brushing the pale lips with his thumb. “I won’t keep you locked up, I promise. You can go wherever you want, but just tell me or the major first. So, do you agree?”

 

Q weakly nodded, too afraid that if he talked, everything might turn out to be nothing more than a silly little dream which was a result of hearing Mildred talk about Missy’s wish to be swept off of her feet by the beautiful lord. This was everything an artist could hope for – to be offered a place in a lord’s court – and more because who didn’t dream of winning Lord Bond’s favour?

 

An idea suddenly entered Q’s mind and he froze. Did the lord expect anything else besides his painting talents? He had certain dreams that made him feel shame every now and then, but he really did not think he could do in real life when he did in the safety of his mind at night.

 

“I ask nothing of you that you will not freely give, but expect me to tempt you until you either give in or demand that I stop,” the lord said as if he had read the young man’s mind, Q’s face instantly going red. “Simply show me how you see the world until you grow tired of my presence and wish to go away. Although, I assure you that I will fight to keep you by my side,” he chuckled and pushed Q in the carriage, closing the door behind him and keeping an arm wrapped around his shoulders to be sure that he would not try to jump out.

 

“My lord might grow tired of my talents long before I might even think about leaving his side,” Q said, regaining a bit of his abilities to think. “They say you are as fickle as the spring weather and I am inclined to believe them. Noble houses are filled with countless wives and – if rumours are to be believed- husbands that you lost interest in.”

 

“None of them kept me up all night with what they created instead of their bodies,” Bond said, laughing and squeezing the back of Q’s head. “And I have yet to finish analysing all of the paintings I bought from you yesterday, so expect to hear Lady M shout in the middle of the night when she catches me sitting in front of them with nothing but a candle. However, if you find your dreams haunted by her Banshee-like shriek, rest assured that you are more than welcomed to take shelter in my bed."

 

“Is Lady M your wife?” Q asked, fighting back a blush and doing his best to ignore the lord's offer.

 

Bond laughed hard, but did not answer Q’s question, loving how cute the younger man looked when he was confused. He thought about kissing him, brushing his thumb over his lower lip, but remembered that the major had begged him to go easy on the boy, calling him a true innocent and explaining that he did not think he was truly aware of how the world worked.

 

It made sense since he had heard of and seen countless artists who lived inside their own fabricated worlds, be they kind places where everything was colourful and full of joy or dark ones where only tears and blood made up the rivers and trees were replaced with bruised and battered bodies of dying soldiers or peasants. He hoped to never see Q paint something like that.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to keep it short, I really did. 
> 
> Please excuse any and all mistakes.
> 
> PS: Alec is mentioned here.

Lady M turned out to be the real power behind Lord Bond’s family, a ruler in everything but title simply because she preferred to run things from behind the curtains. All seemed to respect her and feared her, the servants quickly making themselves scarce the moment they heard her voice and even James seemed to be nervous as the woman’s dark blue eyes shifted from a Q who did his best to appear small and somehow blend in with the background to him.

 

“Mother dearest, it fills my heart with warmth to see you so early in the morning,” James said loudly, stepping in front of Q to block the woman’s glare and extending his hand in front of him, waiting for her to give him his hand so he could kiss it.

 

But the woman just frowned and slapped the man’s hand out of her face, pushing him away to get a better view of Q. “Good heavens Bond, the sun’s been up for just two hours and I already fear for my sanity. Just how much damage did you manage to do in such a short time?” She tried to pull Q to her side, but Bond blocked her attempts.

 

“This is the artist behind the paintings you admired yesterday, M.” The lord turned with his back to her and grabbed Q’s hands, blocking his view of the woman and smiling reassuringly at him. “Ignore everything bad she says about me. I am really not that horrible, but you’ll see that yourself once you get to know me.”

 

“Did you kidnap this poor boy? Does his family know that he is here? Bond, if I find an angry mob at the doors of my estate, I will personally strip you, tie you to a pole and let them skin you alive.” She threatened and her frown deepened when James started to laugh.

 

“She thinks so little of me, Q.” James explained, winking at the young man.

 

The lady also appeared to be quite strong because she pushed her son away from Q. “Did he do that, boy? It’s my entire bloody fault for never denying him anything. But he never did anything like this in the past.” Her eyes softened and carefully patted Q’s head, voice also becoming somewhat sweeter. “You can go home without worry, child. I’ll see he never bothers you again and heavily compensate you for the trouble my unworthy _adoptive_ son has caused you.”

 

James rolled his eyes and tried to pull Q away from the woman and when the two ended up playing tug of war with him, he decided that he had enough and easily wiggled his way out of their hands. “Lord Bond offered me a job, madam. And, as far as I know, I am the last surviving member of my family. However, I fear that Mildred might be worried…” He turned to look at James with pleading eyes, silently asking the man to let him go to the market and tell the woman that he was okay.

 

“I’ll ask the kind major to stop by and tell the good woman where you are,” the lord promised instead, doing his best to ignore the glare his adoptive mother sent him.

 

After pushing him away, M rested her hands on her hips, arching one of her elegant eyebrows and her lips twisted to form an unsettling grin that sent a shiver down Q’s back. “Offered it to you or forced it down your throat?”

 

He tilted his head and smiled, eyes shifting to James who appeared to have turned into a statue. “A little bit of both, but I assure you that if I wasn’t interested in working for your house, I would turn it down.”

 

She threw her head back and laughed, walking away after ordering James to get Q washed, dressed and fed since she refused to hear any ill words directed at their family because of his lack of manners.

 

And James did everything in his power to show Q just how well-mannered and rich he was, bathing him in warm water and then milk, dressing him in silk and feeding him dishes that Q never even heard of and gave him a hard time when he tried to pronounce them. Even the room Q got was breathtakingly beautiful, with huge windows that faced a beautiful garden and that filled with canvases and countless tubes of what surely had to be every colour in the world.

 

“You can make a list of whatever colours or materials you need and I’ll give you the money for them,” James offered, but was completely ignored as Q headed straight for a canvas, stripped down to his pants – much to the lord’s pleasure- and started to paint.

 

He painted for hours and hours, his mind filled with all sort of images that would bother him until them down on canvases. He didn’t notice that James had a chair brought in and sat down behind him, watching him intently. At one point, servants delivered them food and James called out to Q for a good ten minutes before giving up and deciding to feed him himself.

 

“You’re not even aware I am here, are you?” James muttered softly, bringing a grape to Q’s lips, rubbing it against the man’s lips until they parted.

 

The sweet taste brought Q out of his mind and he jumped away when he noticed how close they were, face beet red. “I’m sorry…” He started to apologize only to have another grape showed in his mouth, accidentally brushing his tongue against James’ finger.

 

James made no attempt to hide the shiver that ran through his body, running his tongue over his lips as he took a step closer to Q. He would have kissed him, pushed him against his canvas and do more, but Lady M interrupted him, clearing her throat and grabbing his ear, dragging him out of the room by it.

 

Q laughed and waved at James, looking at the tray of food for a moment before arraigning it and pulling out a new canvas, deciding that the fruits were just too beautiful to eat them without capturing them first.

 

Servants entered his room and filled it with lit candles, James ushering them out before they could disturb the young man. “I will be most crossed if I hear you lot bothered my young artist,” the lord threatened and although he was smiling, everyone knew that he was serious, his eyes gaining that specific ice cold look he seemed to have picked up from Lady M.

 

A few hours later, the woman was doing her usual rounds around the house, making sure that every door was shut properly and that every main was sleeping in their beds and not James’ – the boy’s libido caused her so many headaches and she even joked about having him castrated at one point.

 

She went still and held her breath when she heard low murmurings coming from Q’s room and realized that he was talking with James. She blew out her candle and edged closer to the door, trying to hear what the two were whispering about.

 

“You do need to go to sleep at one point,” James was saying, inspecting the canvases that were already filled with paint or had coal markings. “Is this Lady M? When did you actually get her to sit still and pose for you without burning holes in the back of your head?” He asked incredulously and the woman tried to get a better look at what he was pointing.

 

“I sketched that for memory.” Q focused on trying to rub the paint off of his skin, jumping back when James started to carefully daub at his chest with a damp cloth. “I can do it, my lord.”

 

James grinned and pulled away when Q tried to take the cloth from him, grabbing the man’s hands in one of his and turning him so that his chest was against the young man’s back. “I like doing this, so I don’t mind,” he whispered in Q’s ear, lips almost brushing against his skin. “And call me James; I do so hate when people I like refer to me by my title.”

 

“You are quick to like people, James.”

 

“Not all, just some. And you are the only one who got on my good side in less than two days.” His hands moved lower, but that seemed to break the spell Q was under and the artist instantly jumped on the other side of the room, starting to put out some of the candles. “Did I do anything wrong?”

 

“I think I should go to sleep.” Q ignored James’ question, moving further away from him every time the man tried to get closer to him.

 

“Please don’t be afraid to tell me if I make you uncomfortable or if you hate my touch and I will do my best not fight off your charm.” James chuckled when he saw Q’s red face and held up the cloth, beckoning him to come and get it.

 

When Q got close enough, James grabbed him and pulled him against him, but did little more than give him a quick hug, disliking the way the man tensed at his touch. Maybe he had read the boy wrong and he wasn’t interested in him as much as overwhelmed by his presence and ashamed of his low status.

 

“I want to catch the sunrise and paint it from your garden, if you’ll allow me.” Q continued to say and tried his best to hide his red face. He made sure to hide behind something, not wanting James to see just how his touch affected him. “I am afraid you will grow tired of me in two weeks and I might not—“

 

“I’ll never get tired of you or your paintings.” James interrupted and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You are more interesting than anyone I bedded and I am saying this without bedding you yet, so you must understand that I am quite fascinated with you.”

 

Q laughed and threw the dirty cloth at James’ head in one bold move, jumping in bed and hiding under the covers. “You are so sure of yourself that you will bed me only seconds after promising not to come near me if I am repulsed by your touch.” He poked his head out from under the covers and found James staring down at him, a serious look on his face.

 

“And do you? Find my touch repulsing?”

 

“No, not in the least. I do not think I know anyone who would, to be honest.” Q admitted and looked away, licking his lips. “It’s just that I…”

 

“You have never been touched like that before and you think I’ll end up throwing you out of my home after introducing you to carnal pleasures.” James finished for Q, moving to tuck in the man properly and brushing the wild hair out his eyes, taking the flimsy glasses off of his nose and placing them in one of his coat’s pockets. “You’ll find a new pair of glasses by your bed before the sun rises, do not worry. I am afraid you will end up poking one of your beautiful green eyes out if you keep wearing these.”

 

“Bond, are you harassing the poor boy?” M spoke up after observing the way James barely brushed his lips against Q’s forehead, caressing his face. She was surprised by how her adoptive son was acting, the man never treating his male or female lovers this nicely and if his advances were rebuked more than once, he instantly moved on to another _target_ as she referred to them.

 

“No, Lady M. Lord Bond just thought I might have a fever and offered to check,” Q spoke for James and both M and James tried their best not to snort at the excuse.

 

“Bond, do I need to call the doctor for you as well?” M asked instead and leaned against the doorframe. “And I ask this because it seems that you have forgotten that we have two living on our estate, ready to tend to whoever we tell them to no matter the hour. Unless this is your way of saying that the young man isn’t worth getting a check from an actual doctor?”

 

James actually looked insulted and turned to glare at the woman, taking Q’s hand and squeezing it. “If you got sick, I’d get the king’s personal physician to tend to you.”

 

M snorted and exited the room, James brushing his lips against Q’s forehead one last time before following the woman, getting in a whispered argument that ended with the woman pushing James in his room and shutting the door behind him, threatening to lock him in there if he didn’t show her the proper respect.

 

The following day, Q was surprised to find James waiting for him in the garden, two cups of hot tea next to him. The man kept him company as he painted and they talked about Q’s life and other various things, feeding the young man the breakfast that was delivered to both of them, courtesy of Lady M.

 

James explained that the old woman seemed to already have Q in her heart, thing the woman proved not two days later when she brought in private tutors for him and provided him with more clothing, insisting he had tea with her at least once a day. She used that time to teach him the proper etiquette, assuring Q that he would need to know everything since it seemed that her son was truly taken with him.

 

“But do not worry; I had no dreams of James fathering any children to carry on the family name,” She assured him, patting Q’s hand to get him to stick his pinkie out. “I actually have nightmares that one day I will be faced with an army of women with babes hanging from their bosoms, claiming that they are the fruits of James’ loins.”

 

“I am not his lover.” Q insisted and by the third time they had that conversation, he no longer turned red when his mind conjured images of him and James kissing, naked behind a tree or in a bed.

 

M always graced him with a cryptic smile as she focused back on whatever she was supposed to teach him, shooing James away and slapping his hands whenever he tried to steal whatever snacks they had.

 

Q was also constantly called upon to pain, be his subjects the esteemed and noble guests that graced the Bond estate with their presence or shy kitchen maidens who wanted to send their lovers portraits of them. Not that Q minded that and more often than not, it was James that snuck in his room – if he wasn’t already there to keep him company and read to him – to remind him that he had to sleep or walked outside in the garden to collect him.

 

When a month passed, James decided to throw a party in the painter’s honour, admitting to a slightly tipsy Q that it was just one more of his attempts to court him and get him to fall for him. “Although, I did not take into account that you might not be used to alcohol and that you’d get drunk so quickly.”

 

Q giggled and wrapped his arms around James’s neck and attempted to kiss him, only to stare in shock and shame when the man turned his head away. “Is my breath that bad, James?”

 

“No, my little painter, but I refuse to take advantage of someone who is drunk. That isn’t to say I didn’t bed lovers that were drunk, but they were all more than sober for our first night together.” He picked the giggling man up and carried him to his bed, struggling to get the covers around him. “Do I have to tie you down?”

 

“I never been tied before,” Q slurred out and started to run his finger against James’ face, trying to kiss him again.

 

“I’ll only give you a peck on the forehead as is our custom, darling. I am pretty sure I’ll have to go looking for you when you wake up since you’ll probably regret everything you said and did tonight.” He poked Q’s nose and chuckled at his pout, giving in to the young man’s weak tugs and letting him plant a sloppy kiss on his cheek. “We will talk about us and I’ll kiss you until the world ends and do to you anything and everything you ask of me.”

 

He pulled away before he himself lost the fight with his own brain who had been affected by the wine he had drunk – quite a lot of since it seemed that a lot of ladies and men liked to hit on his painter and to keep him from challenging everyone to duels to prove that they were unworthy of Q’s attention and favour, Mildred and Boothroyd kept pushing glasses of strong wine in his direction.

 

Q mumbled something that James couldn’t quite understand, turning on his side and burrowing under the covers, already lost to his dream world. However, James did hear the other man call out his name during the night and he ran to his room every time, biting his fist to keep himself away when he realized that Q was dreaming.

 

The following morning, Q was intercepted by James right when he was trying to sneak out, dressed in dark clothes from head to toe and clutching a little pouch that was filled with all sorts of fruits.

 

“Do you still want to kiss me?” James asked and covered Q’s mouth before the man could scream and wake up everyone.

 

“My lord, I kind of need to breathe.”

 

“We’re back to you addressing me as ‘my lord’?” James asked, removing his hand and shaking his head disappointingly. “Do you remember how much you wanted to kiss me last night? If I kiss you now since you are quite sober, will you call me James again? Or if I give you two kisses, will you come up with cute pet names for me?”

 

“If I call you Mister Fuzzums, will you pretend last night never happened?” Q asked, trying to step around James without actually looking him in the eyes. Of course he remembered what he did last night and he wanted for nothing more than the ground to split open and swallow him whole. It didn’t help that his head was hurting so much that Q thought his brain was trying to jump out of his skull and roll away.

 

“Darling, are you okay?” James shook him a bit, instantly regretting it when he saw the green that appeared on Q’s face and quickly directing the poor man towards the bucket that had been placed as per M’s instructions next to his bed.

 

“I don’t think I like drinking,” Q moaned and tried to curl up, James carefully putting him in his bed and asking one of the many servants that lingered in the shadows just outside Q’s room to bring him fresh water and a new bucket.

 

“It can be quite enjoyable when you do not go overboard, love.” James muttered, putting the damn cloth over his forehead. “How about you try to run away after you feel better, hm?”

 

Q groaned and lamented his attempts at turning away the moment he felt the bile acid travel up his throat, hugging the bucket close to his him as he emptied his stomach. “I think I would like to die right now, both of embarrassment and illness.”

 

“I’ll send for a doctor to see to you and, until you feel better, do you think you can help me learn how to draw?” James offered, smiling down at the pale man and brushing his hair out of his eyes, kissing his forehead. “I promise not to tease you too much about how you offered yourself to me last night.”

 

Q glared and pushed James out of his way, hugging the bucket again. “I’ll tease you about how horrible you are at drawing if you do,” he promised.

 

Lady M found the two snuggled in the bed a few hours later, James on top of the sheets with Q carefully hidden from the world and whatever slither of light that might pass through the thick curtains in his arms. She thought about waking the older man up and ordering him out of Q’s room –having actually adopted the poor boy in everything but papers and seeking to keep him protected of the evils of the world – but when she saw the little smile the sleeping painter had, she couldn’t bring herself to do anything.

 

It was at that point she realized that James had actual feelings for Q and she suddenly needed to sit down, remembering that there had only been two people in James’ past that had been graced with his real feelings. One of those two still held a piece of her adoptive son’s heart and, if the letters that the two exchanged monthly were anything to go by, James also had a part of his while the other had been lost at sea, drowning right under the man’s eyes.

 

From that moment, the two men’s relationship changed to something that was between that of two friends and two lovers. They exchanged heated kisses every now and then, always hidden in the shadows because Q turned away from James if they were somewhere where people could see them. There had even been two times when the James could no longer hold back and simply pushed the other man against his paintings and started making out with him – but only two because his heart could not handle Q’s dejected face when he saw his paintings getting ruined.

 

But they never went beyond kissing, Q still shying away from James’ touches and instantly pulling away when the other’s hands travelled a bit too low or snuck in his pants. It drove James mad with lust, but he did not push.

 

James also shared one of his most private parts of his life with the younger man, explaining that he did not want to ever give the man the impression that he hid things from him or that he lied to him – Alec.

 

“Alec is my closest friend and much more. He is, much like yourself, everything to me and I told him about you.” He cupped the Q’s blushing face and placed a chase kiss on his lips, rubbing their noses together.

 

“I do not want to get in between you and…” Q started to say, but James quickly shushed him and pulled out the letters from the other man.

 

“Do not think you’re getting between anything, love. If anything, he’d love to meet you and have him paint him. But if it bothers you, I will never mention you to him or him to you ever again.”

 

He put the letters in Q’s hands, but he was stopped when he tried to leave. “Are you asking me to…When I haven’t even done anything with you yet?” His green eyes were filled with fear, lips trembling a bit.

 

James threw himself on his knees and gently cupped Q's face, kissing him deeply. "Love, no, never. I'm not asking you to do anything you don't want." He pulled at his hair and growled, not believing that he was actually having a hard time finding the right words. "Look, just read the letters, get to know Alec and decide if you could at least consider him a friend or not."

 

James almost sighed in relief a few hours later when he checked in on Q and found him laughing over Alec’s letters, green eyes sparkling with amusement. “I can see why you would trust him with your heart.”

 

Nothing happened around there without M finding out and she quickly noticed the way things had changed between the two and got worried, trying numerous times to have a serious conversation with James about Q even though the man brushed her off and left the room every time she approached the subject. He knew what he was doing, he told her. He truly loved Q, in case she somehow missed that he had stopped bringing one night lovers as well as stopped spending countless nights in the city’s brothels.

 

“To be honest, I thought you had caught something from someone,” M admitted. “And you throw that word far too easily around, James. You love him, you love Alec…”

 

“Alec knows about him and vice versa. Alec is dying to meet with him, actually.” James patted her hand and grinned at her. “As you surely know from his latest letter, mother dearest.”

 

She all but snarled at him and pulled his hand out from under his. “And what will you do if Q refuses the both of you? Or you, for that matter? Will you toss him back on the streets and let him be devoured by the cruel world? He’ll be called a harlot since he’s a commoner and have rocks thrown at his head and you will probably find him in the cheapest brothel.” She wasn’t trying to be cruel; she was simply worried that was how things would turn out in the end, not that she would allow any evil to befall her darling Q.

 

“He is a great artist and he will remain under my service unless he decides otherwise.” His voice trembled with anger that the woman dared to imply he would be so cruel with someone just because his advances were turned down.

 

“No one questioned that and I even got a letter from the Queen herself, requesting me to send this wonderful man over to the palace so he could paint the portraits of her many daughters and sons.” M said, trying to calm James down. She really hated it when the man let his temper get the best of him and took his nerves out on her lovely china.

 

“I’ll go with him, of course,” James instantly said, frowning.

 

“Heaven forbid anyone dared to look upon Q when you are not there to glare at them from the shadows.” She tapped the table one and more tea was served, James slumping back in his chair and stuffing his face with sweets, much like he did when he was a child and was being scolded by her. “Are you afraid that he would fall for the first to bathe him in gold and jewels?”

 

“Q is not like that!” James instantly defended, shattering his cup when he jumped up. “He refuses all the trinkets I bought him, even the bloody watch saying that he didn’t need to keep track of time.” He took a deep breath and sat back down, tilting his head in an apologetic way when he realized what he had done. “That court isn’t safe for someone like Q and I don’t trust anyone in there to keep their pudgy little hands off of him.”

 

“He would be under the Queen’s protection and no one would dare to even cough in his direction if they thought it would cause the man harm.” M said, shaking her head. “Still, your aunt does miss you and she expressed her wish to dance with you countless times, so I guess Q going to the court is a blessing in disguise if you are so damned set on going with him.”

 

“If the woman tries to marry me off to some foreign ambassador’s daughter again, I will snog Q in front of everyone. Same goes if she tries to marry him off to some flimsy wench that works there or a lower ranking noble,” James promised, laughing when M slapped him over the head, sending her best glare in his direction. “Do make sure our rooms are next to each other, mummy dearest?”

 

“You are an ungrateful, greedy and overly spoiled brat!” She tugged on his ear a bit and signalled a servant over, ordering him to bring her quill, ink and the good parchment. “If that is the case, I will inform your aunt that you will be visiting her castle in four months.”

 

“Better make sure those rooms have a connecting door between them, seeing as your plan to get me to say that I will go visit her by dragging _my_ Q in this worked.” James dodged the piece of bred that was thrown at him, jumping to his feet and carefully backing away from the table. “I’ll go tell my darling Q that he’ll get to meet the royal family.”

 

He managed to track the young man down by the kitchens, indulging three servant girls by painting them and James couldn’t help but laugh at how completely innocent and half naked Q and did not seem to realize that the women had made sure their dresses where hitched as high as possible without outright showing their womanly parts, corsets tied to tight that their bosoms threatened to spill from them at the first wrong move.

 

The girls ran when they heard their lord’s laughter, ignoring Q’s confused calls after them, the lord grabbing his painter by the arm before he could give chase. “Darling Q, I fear that I have to ask for your age.” He said between bouts of loud laughter, trying to rub Q’s frown away with his thumb.

 

“I believe that I am 24 summers old, though I might have seen more. Why do you ask? And what is wrong with my face that you must keep rubbing at it? The glasses will fall off if you keep doing that and I fear you might step on them and break them.”

 

James stole the glasses and put them on his nose, grabbing Q and starting to twirl around the yard with him, faster and faster until the boy grabbed on to him and hid his face in the crook of his neck. “You’re too thin, my love. I had more trouble with a milkmaid that was at least three summers younger than you. And I was simply just trying to get rid of that frown for you since I was afraid you accidentally painted it on your face.”

 

“I will hurl again and become thinner still and my frown will only deepen if you do not stop this instant, James.” Q warned and wrapped his legs around him, which made it even harder for James to stop since most of his recent dreams had Q around him like that and making all sort of noises in his ears.

 

“The things you do to me, love,” he growled low in Q’s ear, slowly running his hands down his back, but stopping before he could reach his ass and let the younger man hop from his arms. “I do promise I am not here to tease you, but to give you great news.” He sat down on the grass and pulled Q in his lap, still refusing to give the man his glasses back.

 

“You lie to me so sweetly, James.” Q whined and suddenly lunged at the man, pushing him on the ground and tried to use all of his weight to keep him there while he recovered his glasses.

 

Of course that really did not work and James easily flipped them over, wrapping their fingers together as he kissed Q deeply. But Q turned his head away and rolled off of him, face red and lips swollen yet made no attempt to unlink their hands. “I never lie to you, you know that, right?” He sounded hurt and that got Q to cuddle close, throwing one of his legs over him.

 

“What is it that you wanted to speak to me about, love?” He whispered the last word so low that James almost missed it, but when it finally registered in the man’s mind, he pulled Q on top of him and kissed him again, his heart jumping for joy when the man clumsily tried to deepen the kiss instead of pulling away.

 

They pulled away, gasping for air and James licked Q’s neck, sinking his teeth into the offered flesh, getting lost in how sweet the man tasted and to how soft his skin was. He groaned when he heard him moan and felt him involuntarily rub against him, his pants suddenly too tight.

 

“Love, please…” Q mewled and started searching for the buttons on the man’s shirt only to freeze when he heard the women’s giggles.

 

“I will have your heads on pikes decorating the walls of this estate, wenches!” James roared and tried to hide Q from their eyes, scratching his scalp to ease his nerves. “Bloody women and their bloody sharp eyes…” James muttered against Q’s ears, placing soft kisses on the still unmoving man’s temple. “For this, I will have M personally deal with you,” he continued to shout until they took off screaming and apologizing.

 

“I would rather have your head on a pike,” M’s voice caused Q to give out a strangled noise and James actually tried to get his shirt around him and hide him. “Bloody hell, Bond. Why I thought you would be able to tell him about going to the Queen’s court without trying to do him in the middle of the yard is beyond me.”

 

“Could I get you to convince the Queen to get us a single room?”

 

M’s face actually turned red with anger and James was sure that the only reason she wasn’t pulling him up by his ear was because Q was currently acting as his human shield. “On the opposite sides of the castle and I will come with you just to make sure this doesn’t happen!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your comments and kudos <3 They help a lot ;)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Went back to the previous chapter and added something since it seemed that a piece of the story got eaten up somewhere (after James tells Q about Alec)
> 
> As usual, please forgive any and all mistakes and so sorry. I did try my best with a certain part of this chapter.
> 
> Thank you so much for the kudos and comments, they feed my will to write and finish things.

M tried to think of a way to punish her adoptive son for making out with Q in a place where everybody could see, but it turned out to be quite impossible to do. The man didn’t care if she cut his funds for the next year since the townsfolk loved him too much not to give him anything he wanted and since the young man entered his life, there was little else Lady M could do to without also punishing Q.

 

“Cheer up, mother dearest. I promise to be most displeased if you make me wear purple while at the castle,” James offered and M asked herself for the millionth time if she could somehow find herself a magician to send her back in time so she could not spoil the boy so much.

 

Q, God bless his soul, was busy kicking James under the table and sending him glares as sharp as knives in an attempt to get the older man to stop teasing the woman, afraid on an subconscious level that she would really send him alone to the royal court. Yet, she was surprised at how fast James’ face fell when Q promised not to do paint a portrait of him for Alec – and she was really afraid to ask for more details than that since if there was anything that involved those two, it just meant more headaches for her.

 

“You are so cruel to move, love,” James muttered, but still leaned over to place a little kiss on Q’s temple, an elbow expertly placed between his ribs keeping him from doing anything more.

 

The painting in question was a nude which Q really feared because it would be the first time he had to draw a naked male body that wasn’t his. It wouldn’t be the first nude since many of his paintings of naked prostitutes touching each other or simply presenting their bodies is poses meant to resemble the Goddess of Love and he had no problems finishing them even though some of the models tried to get him to sleep with them as thanks, but when he thought about a naked James, spread on a bed and posing for him, his body did weird things.

 

“Q, love? Did I lose you again?” James asked, poking his nose. “Should I feel offended that, instead of focusing on my naked body, you are off to that marvellous world that exists in that pretty head of yours?” He took a step back and slowly turned to show the painter just how well built he was and Q groaned and hid his face in the palms of his hands.

 

Compared to the noble, Q’s body was disgusting. He was too thin, he had almost no muscles and you didn’t have to try too hard to see his ribs. James, on the other hand, could give Adonis a run for him money in Q’s opinion and just thinking about that made the younger man pull the easel better in front of himself in an attempt to cover his naked chest which James really did not like.

 

“Why do you take your shirt off only to hide from me? You let everyone else’s gaze linger on you with little care for how hungry they look and yet whenever I glance your way, you try to hide? Actually, why do you undress yourself when you paint? Your chest was covered in rags when we met in the market and yet, ever since I put clothes on your back, you walk around more naked than dressed. Are they uncomfortable? “

 

James tried his best not to let Q know just how bothered he was by his habit of stripping of his tunic every time he had to paint. He had recently wrote a letter about it to Alec, explaining to the man that he sometimes got the urge to grab the nearest drapes that wrap them around Q and then poke the eyes of whatever unworthy person had seen him – he assured the other man that he wouldn’t actually do that since he would hate himself almost as much as Q would.

 

“I don’t mean to offend,” Q said, peaking up at the questioning blue eyes that haunted his dreams more than he would like to admit. “The clothes you gave me are just so soft and expensive that I fear I might smear them with paint and ruin them. I wish to keep them as much as possible,” he admitted and glared when James laughed, jumping back when the man wrapped his arms around him and pulled him close to his naked body.

 

“Love, I can buy you so many that you will not get to wear all of them even if you changed three times a day.” He rested his head on top of Q’s and started to rub his neck, taking a bit of advantage of how still the man had gone. “Do you plan on letting the Queen and King look upon you in this state of undress while we are at court?”

 

Q instantly pushed James away and he looked at his carefully folded tunic and then down at himself, realizing that it was impossible to present himself like that and not offend. He realized that while it was okay for him to dress however he liked while on James’ estate as long as the people were lower nobility – and since Lady M’s sister was the Queen herself, almost everyone was lower nobility – if he did that in court, he could get James disgraced and himself sent to death.

 

“I am acting quite ridiculous about the whole thing, aren’t I?” Q asked and went to pull the tunic back on only to end up on the ground with a very naked James on top of him.

 

“Wait, you don’t have to dress when you’re in my room, painting me.” James said quickly and got up, pulling Q with him. “Actually, I think you’ll get paint on your pants as well, so maybe we should get them off.”

 

Q was quick to kick him in the crouch, but did not put his tunic back on as he got back to his easel and picked up the piece of coal. He glared at James until the man crawled on the bed and patiently waited for him to get in the position he wanted to be painted in.

 

The whole nude took a lot longer than expected, Q especially having a hard time focusing on the task at hand while James made sure things weren’t easy at all by he constantly giving the younger man all sorts of looks and _accidentally_ touching himself on more than one occasion, calling out to Q to join him every time.

 

“James, please…” Q begged when he was a few lines from finishing the painting, fidgeting on a chair and trying to focus on anything else but where James’ hand was and what he was doing.

 

The older man rolled on his back and stroked himself faster, looking at Q with half-lidded eyes, licking his lips. “Love, if you are saying my name in such a pleading voice, you’re only making it harder for me to not touch myself.” He let out a low moan and Q bit his lips, looking away.

 

“Then I’ll leave and we will finish everything tomorrow.” He tried to bolt for the door, but James was faster than him and grabbed him before he could reach it, kissing the side of his neck while he ran his hands slowly down his chest, tugging on his pants.

 

“Let me help you with this, love.” His hands slipped down the front of Q’s pants and he let out a moan, legs shaking. “Let me worship you like you deserve to be, Q.” James begged and guided his young lover to the bed, softly rubbing against him.

 

Q tried to keep silent, biting James’ shoulder and wrapping his legs around the man’s waist, eyes shut tightly. He was afraid that everything would hurt and that he would be tossed to the side after everything was over and done with, but at the same time he wanted nothing more than rip his clothes off and push himself on James.

 

“Don’t worry, you’ll only feel a bit of pain and then pure pleasure, I promise.” He carefully removed Q’s pants and stopped the man before he could turn away from him, sitting on his legs so he could get a better view of the man. “You’re so beautiful, love,” James assured him and kissed him deeply, one hand wrapping around Q’s hard member while he used the other to cup his chin and keep his eyes trained on him.

 

Q dug his fingers in the covers and stopped holding back the moans, instead focusing on trying to keep his eyes on James, loving the way the man’s eyes continued to fill with lust, the warm, soft candlelight making them look like the sun was reflecting in them. His mind almost slipped back to his paintings, but James couldn’t have any of that and he suddenly engulfed Q’s member in his mouth, rolling his tongue around the tip.

 

Q jumped when he felt the warmness of the man’s mouth and dug his hands in his hair, throwing his head back in pleasure. “James…”

 

It didn’t take more than a few deep sucks and a couple of tongue rolls over the tip to make Q reach his climax, the younger man wrapping his legs around James neck and tugging on the blond hair hard, mouth opened to let out a loud moan.

 

He tried to roll away and hide himself after it, ashamed that he didn’t last longer and that he came in James’ mouth, but his lover wasn’t done yet and after placing a kiss on his collarbone, he carefully flipped him over.

 

“You lasted longer than I did my first time, love,” James reassured him, pulling a little bottle of oil from somewhere under the covers, pouring it on Q’s back and softly starting to massage him. “Will you let me take you? We can stop right here and I’ll do nothing more, if you want.” He almost pushed against him when he saw Q glance over his shoulder with a satisfied look on his face accompanied by a light blush.

 

Clutching the sheets tighter in his hands, Q gave a short nod before burying his face in the mattress, tensing up and shutting his eyes. He jolted when he felt James hands softly touched his back, the man using his thumbs to rub in small circles until he felt his younger lover completely relax again.

 

His hands moved lowered and concentrated on Q’s ass, carefully slipping in one finger and then another, listening to the noises his young lover made to make sure he wasn’t hurting him too much. By the time he slipped his third finger and stretched him enough, Q was already hard again and begging for James to take him.

 

“Patience love,” James muttered softly, bending over his lover and kissing his shoulder blades, freezing when he felt the man suddenly twist to look at him.

 

“James, you just love to tease me, don’t you? You want to hear me beg you for hours on end before you take me, enjoying my pain.” Q whimpered and licked James’ neck, biting down hard on his Adam’s apple and pushing himself lower on the man’s fingers.

 

“If you are feeling pain, I’m not doing this right and you need more preparation,” James growled, barely managing to hold himself back from giving into Q’s please and enter him, feeling like he was about to explode.

 

“No, no, not bad pain. Pain from being teased too much,” Q mewled, pulling James by the hair into a bruising kiss, biting and licking his lips. “Please, love, please, James, just take me already.”

 

James finally couldn’t take it anymore and entered him in one swift move, pushing his body against him and holding him tightly as he kept still, allowing Q enough time to get used with his length inside of him.

 

“Move,” Q growled and slipped one hand between them, wrapping his fingers around his hard member and starting to move his hand in rhythm with James’ thrusts.

 

They both didn’t last long although Q was the first to cum, James right behind him when he felt the muscles tighten around his length. He gave a couple more hard thrusts and collapsed over his already spend lover, placing sloppy kisses on his chin and lips. He slowly pulled out and rolled out of bed on shaky hands, missing the way Q’s eyes suddenly snapped open and filled with fear, lips quivering.

 

“You will sleep in my bed tonight,” James muttered as he started to put out the candles, grabbing the bowl of lukewarm water and a cloth, cleaning Q. He kissed his temple and then cuddled next to him after he himself was clean, pulling him back against his chest and muttered something that the younger man couldn’t make out about his room before falling asleep.

 

Q was the first to wake the following morning and when he tried to sneak out from the bed, James’ grip on him increased, a frown replacing his relaxed features. But Q really wanted to go since the night was over and he didn’t want to hear James order him to leave his bed, so he continued to struggle, ending up making a wrong move that brought tears to his eyes and caused him to yell in pain.

 

That was also the exact moment Lady M chose to walk in and she froze instantly, eyes hardening and face turning white. Before Q could say anything and explain, he woman smacked the sleeping man over the ear hard. James jolted awake, screaming and searching for his sword, M managing to smack him again before Q managed to cover him with his body.

 

“Move out of the way, boy. Clearly I need to make up for all the times when I didn’t punish him,” M ordered in the coldest voice Q had ever heard. “I was sure that I didn’t raise him to find him asleep next to weeping boys with bite marks on their chests and necks that matched the bruises forming on their arms.”

 

The covers were pulled over Q’s head instantly, creating a cocoon around the two men to protect them from M’s hard glare and James pulled his younger lover in his lap, carefully cupping his face and wiping the tears away with his thumb. “Love, why are you crying? Did I hurt you last night? Do you want me to send for a doctor?”

 

“It just hurts when I try to move,” Q muttered and tried to sit better in his maybe-yesterday’s-lover lap, flinching.

 

James started to softly massage Q’s lower back, rubbing their noses together. “Hm, guess that means I get to keep you in my bed all day today.” He wrapped his hands around Q to hide his nakedness from M’s accusing eyes when the woman pulled the covers away from them.

 

“What did you do to the boy, Bond?” She demanded, gripping his shoulder hard enough that he actually let out a hiss of pain. “Let go of Q this instant. Boy, kick him and come over to me, I’ll make sure nothing bad happens to you anymore.” Her voice was sickeningly sweet when she addressed the painter, although when Q peeked over James’ chest, the hardness in her eyes actually scared him.

 

“He didn’t force himself on me, Lady M.” He started to explain, arms tightly wrapped around James. He, surprisingly, managed to match her glare and the woman took a step back, releasing her adoptive son.

 

James ran his hand down Q’s back and kissed his temple, carefully lowering him back on the bed, pulling the covers better around them. “I said over and over again that I would not harm him.”

 

“You’ll leave for the royal court in a week.” M grumbled and threw her hands in the air, walking out of the room to bark orders as the servants to pack everything for Q first and not enter James’ room until they were called, promising sever punishments for those who didn’t do exactly as they were told.

 

“I can go back to my room, if that is what you wish,” Q said after a few minutes of silence and James’ eyes snapped open instantly. “Since the night is over and you said…” He trailed off, drawing little circles on James’ chest.

 

“I want you to sleep in my bed every night, love. I wish to keep you right here until someone drags us by our hair.” James reassured him, feeling more hurt by Q assuming he wasn’t worth more than a single night thank the fact that the woman who raised him thought so little of him that she was so sure he forced himself on someone.

 

A few more minutes of silence passed between the two, Q biting his lips and James patiently waiting to hear what he had to say, heart skipping a few beats since the older man assumed his lover wanted to ask to be left alone. “Can we do that again?” Q asked instead and found himself on his back with James towering above him, grinning down at him like a predator.

 

“We’ll do it as many times as you would like, love. But for today, I think I’ll only use my mouth and hand since you’re still in pain.”

 

M rarely saw them those last three days, the two eating in James’ room and coming out only when she ordered them do to so. The trip to the royal court was spent in the same manner, Q biting the pillows to drown out his moans for the first two days of the trip, eventually giving into James’ please and giving up on trying to muffle his screams of pleasure - James threatening the soldiers and servants that heard anything with bodily harm if they dared to say anything about their activities that might upset or embarrass his young lover.

 

By the time they reached their destination, they were both pale and James decided to use that as an excuse that they were both sick and insist that Q was moved to his room. “He is wear than I am, your majesty,” He explained to the queen, looking worried. “And I fear that he might get a fever during the night and get scared if he sees a stranger attend to him.”

 

The Queen tried to keep a straight face on, but she quickly dissolved into laughter, covering her mouth with her hand. “I’ve known you ever since you were five summers old, Bond. You will have to try a bit harder to lie to me.” She shook her head when her husband turned a questioning gaze at her, lightly patting his hand to let him know that everything was in order.

 

James actually blushed and lowered his head, ashamed to be caught with the lie. “I did not mean to…”

 

“Hush now child, of course you did.” The Queen tilted her head in his direction and signalled every servant to leave the room, patiently waiting until there was only the four of them present. “Not to mention that, although old, I can tell a normal bruise from one caused by the lips of a lover lost in the heat of the moment,” She interrupted him, giggling at how the young painter suddenly matched her husband’s red cape, looking like he wanted nothing more than the ground to suddenly open and swallow him. “And you have matching ones on your neck, James.” She added, hoping to see her nephew squirm some more, but instead the man moved the fabric more and looked quite proud of them.

 

“Despite his shyness, he is quite adamant about leaving his ownership marks on me just I am about leaving mine over every inch of his body.” Q was quick to kick his legs, but James still continued to smile his wolfish grin and he Queen happily agreed to let them share a single room, the King having absolutely nothing to add to his wife’s decision.

 

Q loved the royal court, running around from corner to corner and giving James a hard time in keeping up with him. Most mornings James woke up to a letter pinned on his pillow in Q’s horrible handwriting which informed him that he was in a corner of the garden, painting and promising not to spend the whole day there - of course Q forgot that time actually passed and always insisted on making up to James in the most sinful way he could think of, James making sure to assure him that he really didn’t have to do it.

 

“Then I will stop,” Q whispered, lips brushing over the tip of James’ throbbing member.

 

“You’re not that cruel, love,” James growled out and pushed his head down, grabbing fistfuls of his hair.

 

The servants had been instructed not to enter James’ rooms unless they were called upon, but many already whispered in dark corners about the nature of the relationship between the two, some deciding to still try their luck and throwing themselves at either Q or James, only to be shot down almost instantly.

 

Noble ladies and lords had no better luck in their attempts to get either of the two in their beds, although Q had more troubles than James in turning them down, especially with a man from a faraway land named Taigo Rodriguez. The man had tried to bed James first but quickly turned his attention towards Q, outright offering to buy him and pay James his weight in gold.

 

“I am not some cheap harlot to be bought,” Q said coldly, slapping Taigo’s hand from his upper arm.

 

“I think you need to be taught some manners, servant.” The man replied, preparing to slap Q only to end up with a fist in his face from James.

 

“And I think you need to remember that you are in a foreign country where we do not treat the guest of honour like property.” James towered over Taigo, resting his foot on the man’s chest to keep him from getting up.

 

“I am a guest and you treat me in such a manner?” The man demanded, trying to get up. “I will ask for your head on a silver platter and for your harlot – "A swift kick in the face brought his insults to a stop, two of the man’s teeth falling from his mouth.

 

After that incident, Q was given two guards that James personally picked to follow him around, the King warning Taigo that he had no problem with sending him back to his country in chains if he continued to bother their esteemed guest.

 

"And if you even think about threatening my country with war, I will remind you that you were sent here by your ruler to beg for me to give you money.” The Queen added after her husband had stopped talking, Q realizing that she was the true ruler of the land just like M was the true ruler of the Bond household.

 

They ended up staying at the royal court for five months only because James saw how much Q loved the place, his heart dropping in his stomach when the Queen asked him during one of their private lunches if he would allow Q to remain at her court.

 

“If that is what makes him happy…” James said with half of mouth, throat dry. “I would, of course, stay here as much as possible and I will ask you on my knees, kind Mother of us all, to watch over him and keep him out of harm’s way.” A servant appeared from behind a pillar and filled James’ glass with alcohol, the man emptying it in one gulp. “Did he say anything about wishing to remain here?”

 

The Queen watched him with amusement in her eyes, something he rarely saw in M’s, his adoptive mother much better at keeping her feelings and moods hidden from everyone. “I should apologize for worry you without a good reason, sweet nephew.” She caressed his cheek like she did when he was younger and he lowered his head to allow the woman to place a kiss on his forehead. “He said nothing of the sorts. Actually, when I talked of finding him a suitable wife,” and here she covered James’ mouth to keep him from interrupting her, the man’s temper instantly flaring up. “He asked me if I could find it in my heart to let him spend the rest of his life in servitude to you.”

 

James chuckled, his eyes shining with something the Queen never though she would ever see again after Lady Vesper and Alec. “Funny, I was thinking of asking you to allow me to spend the rest of my life serving and pleasing him.”

 

Later that night, James took even more time in worshiping Q, the man whimpering and begging in tears under him. That was the only way Q allowed James to thank him for loving him, still refusing to accept any gifts that the older man tried to shower him in.

 

They finally returned home six months later and were greeted by a married Major and Mildred and a letter from Alec which clouded James’ good disposition instantly. He pulled Q aside when the festivities were almost over and showed it to Q, the younger man’s hands shaking as he fought to hold back tears.

 

The letter was a request for James to travel overseas and help Alec in his attempts to establish a trading business on the New Land, explaining that the whole thing would take at least six months. Alec was kind enough to include an apology to Q and a promise that he would watch over him and make sure his heart and eyes did not stray away.

 

“Love, don’t cry. I promise to send for you as soon as the business is up and running and I secure a decent home for us,” James whispered softly and kissed each of Q’s tears.

 

The night before he was supposed to leave, James gave Q a little signet ring that had a stag on it, telling his young lover that it was the physical representation of his promise to bring him by his side.

 

“Some will say I married,” Q tried to joke, wiping furiously at the tears that rolled down his cheeks. “And with all the crying I’ve been recently doing, I fear that I am secretly a woman and I have become pregnant.”

 

James pushed Q in their bed and straddled him, kissing down his throat. “If you are not sure of what you are, let me give you a thorough check.”

 

The following morning, Q woke to James softly kissing his forehead and pushing a piece of paper in his hands, instructing him to read it when he was alone in their room and keep it hidden from M’s eyes – the woman did manage to find the letter a week later, but she instantly regretted reading parts of it, realizing that her adoptive son had given Q a _story_ to keep him company when he felt he couldn’t go on without James’ touch.

 

After that, the woman kept away from whatever written things Q received from his lover – or lovers, if the terms Alec used to address him were anything to go by, albeit Q seemed to be completely in the dark about that. Still, the younger man had no problem reading parts of them after dinner, his whole face lighting up with joy and his eyes looking lively only during those moments.

 

And the letters Q got from both Alec and James were extremely long after three months James starting to keep little diaries that he sent for Q to read along with all sorts of little gifts which he knew the other man couldn’t refuse. Q sent paintings upon paintings to the two men, at one point even sending them a little music box that he helped the Major create, explaining to James that the song it played back was the first one they danced on when they were at the Queen’s court.

 

When a year passed, Q finally received the letter he wanted the most and he jumped and screamed for joy. He was done packing in one night and spent the rest of the week sketching the Bond estate, abandoning his self-imposed task only to eat, sleep and lend a helping hand when it was needed.

 

He hugged the Major, Mildred and a heavily sobbing Missy, promising to send them lots of letters that rivalled James’ and Alec’s in length. M was more reserved, but for the first time, Q saw her eyes shining with what he thought to be unshed tears.

 

“Everything will be okay, Lady M. They will look after your lands as if they were their children,” Q awkwardly said, trying to help the woman feel better,

 

“I have no doubt of that, boy. I am not worried at all.” Still she accepted the younger man’s hug without a word, holding him tight in her arms as she shook with silent tears. “You better bundle up, Q. You are shivering and I do not want to hear James complain about how I did not take care of his man.”

 

“He will kiss your hands and thank you from the bottom of his heart for how well you’ve taken care of me, milady. As will I as soon as I manage to stand on my own two feet for more than a second.” He promised and tried to laugh, regretting it instantly.

 

They had hoped for sunny weather, pleasant breezes and clear blue skies and yet they were met with the coldest of winds, darkest of skies and the sun hadn’t graced them since the moment they set foot on the ship. And what was worse, Q instantly fell ill and Lady M moved in his cabin, trying to nurse him back to health.

 

“The boy just has seasickness, milady.” The ship’s doctor offered after one week, flinching when the woman turned her angry glare towards him.

 

“Don’t you think I know that, you buffoon? Am I paying you to state the obvious? No, you simpleton!” M hit the bedside table so hard that she actually cracked it and Q jolted awake, instantly calling out for James. “We’re almost there, child. Go back to sleep and I promise that you will wake up in my son’s arms,” she muttered softly, brushing his dump hair away from his eyes.

 

“I will try my best, but there is no known remedy for it, milady. Other than tricking the mind into thinking that the body is actually on ground and to do that, the storm needs to calm down long enough to get the boy on the upper deck.”

 

M did not like the answer, but there was little she could do so she just sent the doctor away and continued to look after Q, telling him stories of James’ childhood and all the horrible ways he found to make life hard for her even back then. “Not that it bothered me, to be honest. It was more fun, more entertaining and I can honestly say that ever since I adopted that imp, I truly felt alive.”

 

“James is a pleasant storm in someone’s life, isn’t he?” Q wheezed out, instantly turning on his side to empty his stomach in the bucket provided by the ship’s doctor. “This is worse than when I got drunk,” the young man admitted between fresh tears.

 

M patted his back and wiped his mouth, helping him lie back down in bed. “You’re a day away from your best medicine, Q.”

 

But the storm wasn’t done with them and became even more violent as they neared land, the wind becoming so strong that it actually put a big crack in the ship’s main mast. The captain instantly ordered everyone to get into the lifeboats, sure that they had better chances to survive in them than on a ship that was breaking apart.

 

“Try to keep that thing from falling on all of us while we get the woman and her sick companion in the first boat.” The captain ordered, kicking the men he thought moved too slow for his liking.

 

Their two guests were more or less dragged on the upper deck, two sailors holding Q up who looked like he was moments away from passing out while M’s glare looked like it could rival the storm.

 

“What is the meaning of this?” She demanded, voice drowning out the thunder.

 

They really did not have the time for this, the crack in the mast growing bigger with every second. “We’re sinking and abandoning ship, what does it look like? Now get in a bloody boat.” He was sure that he would regret the tone he used with her if he lived to see another day, but that wasn’t important.

 

But before anyone could move, the mast finally gave out and started to fall down, everyone running as fast as they could in search for cover, the captain quickly grabbing the woman and pushing her into a boat.

 

Q, however, was less fortunate, the two sailors that were holding him up being caught in the ropes and pulled into the unforgiving sea, himself following them, bumping his head on the side of the ship. The last thing he heard was M calling desperately for him and then everything being drowned out, feeling nothing but the cold and the burning of his lungs as salted water filled them.

 

***

 

The priests had decided to call the storm the new biblical flood after three days of nonstop raining and both Alec and James tried their best not to laugh out loud in their faces. But when a week passed and the rain still hadn’t let out, they started to worry for the ship that was carrying Q and M. When news of sunken ships reached their ears – which didn’t take long since the city they lived in was also a port–, James couldn’t fall asleep without the aid of the strongest alcohol they had.

 

“I should have made sure the route had them docking in this city,” James lamented a week before the ship was supposed to pull into dock while Alec struggled to get him into bed and keep him there.

 

“Because you wanted to impress Q with how beautiful the main port was, James. Now shut up and go to sleep before I knock you out.” Alec stripped and got into bed next to James, entangling their legs just to be sure that he wouldn’t wake up to an empty bed because the other man decided that drunken ideas were the best ideas and jumped into the ocean to reach the ship faster.

 

James sighed and closed his eyes, taking deep breaths. “I’ll live for that city tomorrow and I’ll wait for them.”

 

James couldn’t be blamed for how scared he was about losing Q to the unforgiving sea since he had lost another lover to it, although Alec thought that was all on her head since the woman had tried to lure his lover into a trap only to truly fall in love with him and deciding that she couldn’t face him after he found out what her plans had truly been.

 

“I’ll come to keep you company then,” Alec offered and in that moment James agreed, holding on tightly to him.

 

But when morning came, James asked Alec to stay behind and make sure their business ran smoothly and didn’t fall under. After all, if Q had to put up with the restless sea for so many weeks, it would be a shame if he was presented with a bankrupt business.

 

Alec agreed even though both men knew that their business had reached the point when their presence wasn’t actually required – after all, that was why James had sent for Q. But Alec also knew that James needed some alone time to battle and conquer his demons on his own and plus, if the man needed his help, Alec would be by his side in less than a week since the messages were delivered surprisingly fast.

 

Nine days later, Alec tried his best to keep himself from falling prey to the worry that was building inside his stomach and mind from the lack of news from his lover - telling himself that the man was probably on his way back with Q and M in tow or at least a letter that asked him to join the happy couple – so he decided to take a little fishing trip.

 

He sat on the deck with his eyes closed, taking deep breaths and just enjoying the warm sun light. Then he noticed something floating in the distance and for a moment, he was sure he was staring at a mermaid. But mermaids didn’t exist and he realized that he was actually staring at someone who was clinging to his life to a barrel.

 

“Man overboard!” He shouted and the sailors came to life, quickly lowering a lifeboat in which Alec jumped in.

 

The man lost his grip on the barrel just as they reached him and Alec jumped into the cold water, diving under and grabbing him before he would be forever lost to the dark depths, quickly throwing him into the boat and proceeding to give him the kiss of life.

 

When the man coughed out water and turned on his side to seek warmth, Alec finally noticed how he looked and actually touched his legs to be sure he was indeed not a mermaid because he looked like he couldn’t belong to the real world.

 

“Are you okay? What is your name? What are you doing here? Was your ship sunk?” He asked the pretty man as soon as they were back on the main ship, the sailors quickly draping warm blankets around him. “Are you actually a merman?” He continued to ask, pinching his legs and laughing when the man jumped and tried to pull them under him. “Sorry, I just had to be sure they weren’t a tail.”

 

The man stared at him with the greenest eyes Alec had ever seen, looking extremely scared and confused. “James…” The man croaked out, wrapping his hands around his throat as he started to cough.

 

“Is that your name?” Alec asked and moved to wrap an arm around the shivering man, trying to warm him up.

 

It took the man a few moments to answer and by that time, the ship’s doctor was all over him, checking his head and eyes. “No, James is…” He let out a little noise and jumped up, pushing everyone away as he started to tug on his hair. “I don’t know! I don’t know who James is! I don’t know who I am!” He shouted, starting to hyperventilate.

 

Alec managed to grab the man and wrestle him to the ground, using his weight to keep him still while the doctor poured something foul tasting down his throat to calm the man down, explaining that the young man probably lost his memories because he hit his head against something.

 

“James…” The stranger muttered and looked at Alec with unfocused eyes, the man slowly pushing the wet brown hair away to get a better look at the pale face.

 

“My name is Alec, actually. But I do know a James,” he said softly, helping the sailors put the man on a gurney. “Take him to my house and have another doctor check him out,” he instructed once they reached land, making sure the man was properly covered before turning his attention to a young boy who was tugging on his pants.

 

The boy tried to bow and ended up hitting his head against Alec’s legs, frowning and pouting when the man laughed. “”s not funny. Mum said I’d best bow…” He tried again and this time the man took a step back to be sure he wouldn’t ruin the boy’s bow, patting his head when he looked up at him with the biggest smile, pushing a letter towards him. “’S from the main port.”

 

Alec gave him a few coins and sent him on his way, suddenly having a real bad feeling. He instantly regretted not having a chair near and the stopped in a bar on his way home to buy a bottle of their strongest alcohol, the only thing that kept him from emptying it being the strange man greeting him on the doorstep with a blanket wrapped around his naked body, green eyes staring at him with fear and confusion.

 

“Are you okay?” The man asked, taking a step closer to him.

 

Alec flashed him a fake smile and ruffled his hair, putting a hand on his shoulder and guiding him back inside the house. “Let’s get you some clothes.” He stopped by his room and threw the letter on his bed along with the bottle, promising himself to drown his mind in the sweet liquid of forgetfulness after he made sure the boy was taken care of.

 

_Alec,_

_The ship sunk. We lost 23 sailors and Q. Sent M to other ports. I will be boarding a ship and start searching for my Q. I’ll keep you updated as soon as I get news._

 

_James._


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, what a shock. I wrote too much again, but please enjoy~
> 
> Thank you so very much for all the comments and kudos, they helped a lot :)
> 
> Please forgive any and all mistakes.

James simply refused to return to Alec without Q or his body and, worried about the decaying state of her adoptive son’s mind, M decided to travel with him. Alec promised the woman that he would travel to take her place, but James intercepted the letters and forbade the man from seeing him. He wasn’t himself and he didn’t want to make Alec go through this again, he explained.

 

Not that Alec wasn’t affected by Q being lost at sea since he had formed a relationship that was borderline romantic with the younger man through the letters – they did intend on testing to see if they could be actual lovers once they met or if they would be stuck as close friends that shared a lover – but it was understandably harder for James than for him.

 

It was also clear that he didn’t plan on listening to the man and leaving him alone to drown in his own sorrow for too long. He decided to give him two months tops and if he didn’t return or at least send a letter to call him over, he’d to whatever shady brothel or port drinking hole he was him and beat some sense into him before dragging him back home.

 

Meanwhile, he could try to figure out how and if he could help the amnesiac merman that was currently kipping with him – and that had been an unexpected hard battle, since the young man refused to simply accept things and Alec almost had to tie him to a chair to get him to listen to reason.

 

“Where are you going to go? You don’t even know who you are or where you came from and I am pretty sure you currently have no idea how the world outside this room works,” Alec scolded the young man, sending pleading looks at the doctor to get the man to agree with him and help him win the ‘case’.

 

The green eyed man chewed on his lips, shifting his weight from one foot to another, rubbing his index finger and looking at it as if he was expecting to find something on it. “I am not questioning your honour, Mister Trevelyan…”

 

“Please call me Alec. Mister Trevelyan was my father.” He interrupted, walking up to him and pushing him down in a chair, getting between him and the door since he really did not think it would look to good if people saw him running after a terrified young man without shoes on and dressed in clothes that were clearly too big for him. “And if you are not questioning my honour, then I do not see what the problem is. You don’t look like you eat that much and even if you did, I promise that I am rich enough to feed you.”

 

The man blushed and looked away from Alec, clearing his throat. “It is not that Mist—Alec. I simply do not feel comfortable not working to earn my daily bread.”

 

Alec suddenly grabbed the man’s hands and studied them closely, the man watching him curiously. “Your hands are not that rough and I can clearly see many little cuts that look they came from paper. You are not underfed at all, despite the fact that you look like the wind could easily pick you up if its speed increased just a tiny bit.” He ruffled the messy brown locks when the amnesiac gave out a tiny growl, chuckling. “And what was left of your clothes was made out of very fine silk.”

 

“I don’t see where this is going, Alec.” He moved to cover his chest with a hand and looked away, trying to focus on a thought that was just out of his reach in his mind. “I still do not want to be a moocher.”

 

“Well, I don’t think you’re a noble yourself since you had absolutely no valuable jewel on your or tan lines other than a faint one around that index finger you might end up braking if you don’t stop pushing and tugging on it,” and he grabbed the man’s hands to keep them still, bringing them to his chest.

 

Unfocused eyes narrowed and Alec made a mental note to ask the doctor to check them again since it didn’t look like his little guest actually saw things properly. “I do not like where this is going,” the man said in a clipped voice.

 

“Good heavens, you sure have a way of treating your saviour.” The doctor suddenly exploded, crossing his hands over his chest. “Here is a lord offering a kept boy a home and something warm to eat and the kept boy is trying to find a way to get in his bed.” The man continued his rant and Alec froze at how fast the green eyes filled with hurt and insult. “I am also sure that the James fellow you kept calling for was your owner who finally had enough of your constant complaining and decided that your body wasn’t— “

 

A loud slap echoed in the room and the doctor stared in shock at Alec who looked like he was doing his best not to add a punch to that slap. “I will remind you that he is my guest and I will not stand by an allow you to insult him.” He kneeled next to the man who looked paler than he did a minute ago and carefully placed his hands over one of his. “I don’t think you were someone’s boy toy or anything sleazy like that,” Alec assured him, feeling a lot better at the thankful smile he got.

 

He sent the doctor away after that, promising the man that if anyone in the city got the impression that his new guest was a prostitute, he would personally cut out his tongue. What sort of doctor said that about their patients? Weren’t they supposed to be priests first and then healers? Everything was simply pathetic and disgusting.

 

His conversation with the young man continued over lunch and Alec had been really close to force-feeding him. He was cute in how determined he was not to case him any more trouble than he already did, explaining that he wanted find a way to pay him for everything he was doing for him.

 

“You’re not really letting me do anything for you. I am surprised you’re not insisting on walking around naked because you have no way of paying me for the clothes I lent you,” he chuckled at how red the man had turned.

 

An idea suddenly entered his mind and pulled ran from the room to find something to see if the shipwrecked man could read. The man understood what Alec wanted from him when he was presented with a piece of paper and, after almost gluing his face to it, easily read all the out loud.

 

“It looks like we’ll have to get you a pair of glasses, because I will not have you walk into things while checking over the cargo.” He carefully touched the man’s face, fingers traveling up and ghosting over the nasty wound he had on his head. “We also need to find you a name since I can’t keep calling you boy. Are you sure you’re not James?”

 

The man thought for a moment and slowly started to shake his head, sighing. “That name is important to me, yes. But I am sure it’s not mine.” When he tilted his head and started to nibble on his finger, Alec had pushed away from him, mind suddenly filled with all sorts of ideas and images that would send the boy running for the hills. “Did I say anything wrong?”

 

Alec shook his head quickly. “I just remember that I have something to take care of.” He quickly shoved a few pieces of meat in his mouth which he quickly swallowed almost without chewing. “You’ll sleep in the guest room and no, I will not let you sleep on the kitchen floor or anything silly like that.” He rang the bell and called for one of the three servants he had in the house, instructing to bring the boy papers so he could write down all the names that entered his mind. “Use as much paper as you want and if you need anything while I am away, tell him and he’ll bring it for you.”

 

He spent that night in a brothel, simply drinking despite his initial plan and all the women and men that rubbed against him, pleading with him to come up in their rooms and warm them up. As if he would be able to do anything since he had recently lost a potential lover while his other love was probably busy killing his inside with the strongest ale in existence – if he was lucky and James wasn’t actually doing something stupid such as suddenly deciding to personally check the bottom of the sea for their Q.

 

The following morning, when he checked on his guest to see if he was still sleeping, he was surprised – actually scared, if he was honest with himself – to find the room empty except for a neat little stack of papers on the desk that quickly diverged from names into well done doodles and sketches of all sorts people whose faces were crossed.

 

One of the backdoors slammed shut and Alec was going down the stairs in the blink of an eye, leaning against a wall and taking a deep breath when he saw his memory-challenged guest helping the old woman that ran the kitchen put the food away.

 

“Mister Alec, the boy is a treasure,” the woman said as soon as she caught a glimpse of her employer, turning around to pinch the young man’s cheeks. “John over there is a natural in the market and I am pretty sure I’m about to cook you the freshest breakfast you ever had since you came on this land!” She announced proudly.

 

“Is that your real name?” Alec asked, looking behind the woman with a hopeful smile on his face that quickly disappeared then his new young friend shoot his head and looked away sad.

 

“The letters are all wrong.” He frowned and absently minded-started to wipe the apples against the shirt that was still slipping off of one of his shoulders, making Alec want to trail kisses down the pale skin. “I don’t think my real name started with a ‘J’ and it still feels like there are too many letters in there, but I think someone called me something with four letters so…” He shrugged and the shirt slipped even further down the shirt, the newly named John putting the fruit away to struggle with the cloth.

 

“It will come to you, I am sure.” Alec tried to eat something, but the woman quickly reappeared and slapped his hand away. “Please promise you will never stop me from eating my own food.” He said in John’s direction, chuckling at how serious the man looked when he shook his head.

 

He decided to let the man help around with the shopping until his glasses were ready and even tagged along one day to see just how the man faired at the market. He was pleasantly surprised to see that the man knew what he was looking for and how to deal with every seller, destroying them completely when they tried to make him buy produce he didn’t deem worthy.

 

John didn’t exactly have an exact position within the company, sometimes staying back at headquarters to act as Alec’s assistant and make him tea, greet possible costumers, read letters and try to improve his handwriting so he could also reply to the letters – his handwriting was simply abysmal and the first time Alec saw something written by John, he laughed so hard he had tears in his eyes.

 

“Wait, wait, John, I’m sorry.” Alec pleaded as he grabbed the younger man’s hand and pulled him back down on the chair. “I can help you with it, I promise.” He ruffled his hair again and poked the slightly puffed cheeks. “And don’t worry. I know people who are nobles and they can’t even write a single letter, so you are a God compared to them.”

 

But the young man mostly went out to the market with the other employees to use his ‘gift’ and get Alec the best of the best while also saving him a lot of money. The man was also allowed brought in to check on their own goods, to decide if they would survive a longer and cheaper route or if they were better off sent via an express route.

 

However, when the guys tried to get John on a ship so he could inspect the cargo before it could be unloaded – since the had to pay for that even if he was dissatisfied with its contents – the man had a panic attack and Alec had to be called and drag the screaming man away.

 

If he thought better about it, seeing as John was someone who barely survived a shipwreck, it made perfectly good sense that the man didn’t want to ever be on one again and Alec kicked himself for not realizing that sooner. He also hated storms a lot and when the city was hit by one three weeks after Alec had found him, a servant woke him up and told him that John was huddled in a corner of a kitchen, crying and asking for James to come.

 

“We tried to take him back to his room, but he wouldn’t budge.” The servant explained, nervously looking between the crying man and his master. “Should we let him stay here until the whole thing blows over?”

 

Alec shook his head and asked for someone to bring him a blanket, sending everyone back to bed afterwards. “I’ll deal with this, don’t worry.” He was very careful when he draped the material around the man and crouched in front of him, gently shaking his head. “You are safe on dry land, John, I promise.”

 

“You should get everyone out because the mast will break and we’ll all drown,” the man said, whimpering and covering his head when the thunder rolled near them.

 

“Maybe we should also try to get away, hm?” He tried and was surprised when the young man threw himself in his arms when thunder struck again. “Come on, into the lifeboat where the mast won’t get us we go.” He easily wrestled the man in his arms and carried him back to his own room.

 

He woke up with staring at confused green eyes and before the man could freak out, he explained to him what had happened. “I do not remember anything about that,” John admitted, hanging his head in shame and embarrassment.

 

“The things you do to me,” Alec breathed out, barely managing to hold himself back from ravaging the man where he stood, not noticing that John had stilled at those words.

 

“James…”

 

Shaking his head and letting out a small sigh, he patted his confused friend’s head. “No, love, I am Alec, not James. Do you remember that?” Perhaps he should call yet another doctor and have him give John another check-up.

 

But speaking of James, his letters always seemed to just miss him and thus his lover was still in the dark about the man Alec found in the water, the man Alec had a strong suspicion – and actually prayed – was really their Q.

 

It wasn’t just because the young man had brown hair that seemed to do whatever it wanted no matter how many times the man struggled to get it to sit properly, or that he needed to wear glasses, or even the green eyes in which Alec managed to get lost in whenever they made eye contact. He wasn’t even suspicious because the man seemed to know a James – the name was actually pretty common and it could be a simple coincidence that a shipwrecking survivor knew and loved a man named James.

 

No, he started to suspect that the moment John asked him if he would terribly mind if he spent his first coins made in the company on a canvas and a few colours. And when he sat back and watched him close his eyes and draw the first thing that came to mind, the outline of the man just screamed Sir James Bond of Skyfall. But John could never add details to the face and he soon stopped drawing it, opting to paint sinking ships and sailors dragged into water by beautiful mermaids.

 

He showed John the paintings he had from Q and the man seemed to lose himself for days in front of them, carefully tracing each line. Yet, when he tried to show the man the one painting he had of James, the man couldn’t look at it at all, covering his eyes and running out of the room, stuttering excuses and tripping over his own legs.

 

Maybe he had read the man wrong and everything was just a simple coincidence. There was the possibility that John wasn’t interested in men at all, not that he realized when women were hitting on him while he was in the market, much to Alec’s eternal amusement.

 

Immediately after the painting incident, Alec decided that he needed to apologize to the man somehow. He also wanted to test and see just in what direction John swung in and both things could be achieved by Alec taking the man along with his other employees to a special little in and offering to pay for everything the man consumed. “And I do mean everything,” he whispered in the young man’s ear, pushing the glass of ale closer to him. “This is a special place where you can enjoy anything and everything.” He winked and moved away a bit, allowing a woman with a big cleavage to sit on John’s lap.

 

True to his innocent nature, John really did not get the drift and politely asked the woman to stop grinding against him because he was spilling the horrible tasting ale, asking her if she’d allow him to make a quick sketch of her. “If that’s what gets you going, sugar, sure.” She said and tried to kiss him, looking lost in Alec’s direction when John dodged her lips.

 

Alec waited for John to finish what he was doing and motioned for a muscular man to try his luck after the woman quickly disappeared to the upper levels of the inn to show her colleagues who weren’t busy with anyone what her customer had did for her.

 

John treated him the same way, although Alec was pleased to notice a slight tint of pink covering the younger man’s face when he had to focus on the naked torso. Two hours later, John was surrounded by all the male and female workers of that locale, happily drawing little portraits of them while Alec assured the owner that he would pay as if his John was being serviced by all of his employees.

 

“You know how much I hate his kind, Mister Trevelyan and I am shocked beyond words that you actually brought one of them in here.” The owner grumbled and sent another drink to young John and Alec thought that was a very odd thing to say, especially since Alec was currently looking at one of the men trying to chew on John’s ear while another tried to unbutton his shirt. “Bloody artists thinking they can pay for everything with their doodles, promising that they’ll be worth a lot of money one day.” Ah, that made more sense.

 

As the sun was rising, Alec was merrily making his way back home with a very drunk John on his back. “This isn’t the first time I’m like this,” the man loudly announced in Alec’s ear as they entered the house.

 

Alec chuckled and carefully went up the stairs as John started to shush himself, apologizing to the paintings for waking them up. “Drunk or carried to bed by another man?” He asked and sat down on John’s bed, waiting for the man to let go of him.

 

“Both, but he carried me in his arms and wouldn’t let me kiss him and then, when I tried to run away the following day, I got sick and we slept together.” Alec really didn’t know what to make of what he had heard and John’s head suddenly popped out from behind him and offered him a blinding smile. “Although he was right when he said getting drunk could be fun.” He pushed his glasses up his nose and started to rub his eyes with his wrists, making little annoyed noises.

 

Alec started to rub John’s back and made him lie down in the bed. “It’s good that you are slowly starting to remember things.” He said softly and brushed the brown curls away from his face. “Still, I don’t think the man was right to sleep with you while you were drunk and if he kept you against your will somewhere…. Even I wouldn’t do that and I just took you to a brothel. Your James wasn’t nice.”

 

He blinked when John slapped him, although because the man was half-asleep and fully drunk, it felt more like a pat against his face. “Sir, I will give you only one chance to take back those words because my James is the kindest lord in existence.” It looked like he wanted to say more, but his face suddenly turned green and before Alec could run to bring him a bucket, covered himself and the sheets in what he had throughout the day.

 

Alec woke the servants and sent them to quickly prepare a bath, stripping the man and carrying him to it. He was thorough in washing the self-conscious John, trying not to stare too much at him and careful not to touch where the man wouldn’t want to be touched.

 

“I think I would like to die right now, both of embarrassment and illness.” John said and suddenly sat up in the tub, Alec quickly averting his eyes and holding up a towel for the young man to take and cover himself with. “I said the exact same thing…”

 

It was really starting to become hard for him to control his urges around the man and he really did not want to do anything to scare him. He thought about waiting until the man was all settled back a bed and then sneak back to the brothel, but the moment John rested his head against his shoulder, Alec realized he wouldn’t be able to leave the man’s side at all.

 

“Alec, I’m not feeling well at all. I think my head will explode,” John muttered, rubbing his head against Alec and making the older man shiver in need. “Please never take me drinking again.”

 

“I won’t, I promise. Now come along, you’ll sleep in my bed since it will take a while before yours can be used again.” He dried the man off and with the help of the servants, got him dressed in some of James’ clothes and then carefully guided him to his room.

 

He got in next to him since the man simply refused to let him go – although he was pretty sure John wasn’t exactly aware of what he was doing or who he was cuddling against – and, after attempting to toss and turn and get a pillow between them so John wouldn’t wake up to something poking any part of his body, he finally fell asleep.

 

His dreams were filled with James and John, both men rolling around a huge bed, begging him to join him and teasing them with their butterfly kisses and touches. He instantly knew that everything was a dream, but still indulged in it, the James from his dream asking him if he wasn’t worried about accidentally rubbing against the real life John.

 

“I miss you too much to care and there is a pillow between us so just get on with it,” Alec insisted and imagined his older lover fully naked.

 

Thankfully, nothing of the sorts happened – or if it did, the other occupant of the bed had no idea it did, did not mind that it did or did not remember – yet Alec woke up with John tightly grasping his shirt in his sleep while he was being used as a pillow. Of course he didn’t mind it at all and actually allowed the man to wake up on his own, occasionally rubbing the man’s back and also kissing the top of his head.

 

Even when he woke, it took John a bit to realize that he was next to someone and he apparently had the habit of starting his day by stretching as much as he could while rubbing his head against the pillow.

 

“Good morning, beautiful,” Alec said when he was sure that the pillow wouldn’t be able to provide much of a cover for him, especially when he felt John’s own hardness brush against his stomach.

 

John jumped out of the bed almost instantly, pulling the covers with him. “What? I am sorry… I don’t…” He started to stutter, face completely red.

 

“Do you remember what happened last night?” A short nod, head held low. “Then you know that you have nothing to apologize to me for and that nothing happened.” Alec moved his leg and grabbed the covers with his toe, yanking them back in the bed. “Though you might have to apologize to whoever is stuck with cleaning your room.” He should feel horrible for teasing the young man so much, but he was amazed whenever John managed to turn redder and he was pretty sure he had just managed to invent a new shade of red for which he would try to think up a name after his pants stopped feeling like a stranglehold over his crouch area.

 

John almost ran out of the room and Alec was very thankful for that since it gave him the privacy he needed to take care of his huge – he never referred to it as little since he did not have a habit of lying – problem. He was sure that the man had rushed back to his own room where he probably proceeded to insist he be allowed to clean his own mess, not that any of the servants dared to go over their master’s word and let him do anything but help with food buying.

 

The downside to not allowing the man to pick a single thing after himself was having to resist the pouty lips that he constantly saw while they were working together. As if it was hard enough to hold back from nibbling on them and tasting them until John turned into go under him and moaned his name, pleading to take him already. Oh and he would take his time if that ever happened, a form of payback for how much the younger man unknowingly teased him.

 

“Let’s have dinner tonight,” Alec suddenly asked the silently fuming John. “No alcohol involved this time, I promise.” He added with his hands raised slightly above his head.

 

“Will you let me pay for that, at least?” John asked without looking up for the files he was trying to put in an alphabetic order.

 

“Not even in your dreams, darling.” Alec had moved to lean on the other man and poked his cheek.

 

John swatted at Alec’s hands and continued to give him the silent treatment. But the older man refused to let the other be a winner and started to mess up the documents since they had never been in a specific order and it didn’t take him or James all that long to find what they were looking for. “I’m using your own money anyway!” John snapped and turned to glare at Alec. “It’s as if you are paying for everything anyway.”

 

Alec raised a finger and wobbled it, bumping John’s nose a few times. “Not the same thing and not my money. They are yours. You work, you save me a lot of money so you earn every little coin you get.” He moved his hand away from John’s face just in time to avoid getting his finger bit. “You can pay for dinner the next time we go out.”

 

“So sure you won’t annoy me out of your house after this one? Or at least enough for me to never eat with you ever again?” John challenged and the little playful smile that was on his face brightened Alec’s whole.

 

“My other employees will drop really heavy crates on my head while my own cook will poison me and the other servants will shrink everything I own and then invite thieves in my house and offer to help them rob me if I do anything to upset you.” He did not mention that he would also punish himself in a brutal and unpleasant way and if John turned out to be Q, James would probably gut him.

 

Green eyes narrowed and John pushed his glasses back up his nose, suspicious of Alec. “And I get to pay for the next time we go to eat?”

 

Alec rested his hand over his heart and bowed a little. “On my honour and yes, I know what that word means and yes I do have one,” he grumbled and John started to laugh, much to Alec’s joy.

 

“Then we have a deal. But!” He grabbed the older man’s arm, stopping him from leaving the room. “Don’t you dare pick something so fancy that it has five forks on the side of each plate or I promise I will shove each of them in your face.”

 

Well, so much for that plan. Not that he thought he could really get the man to fall for him after wining and dining him as if he were a woman. Actually, that might land him on John’s bad side – if he caught up to what Alec was trying to do. “That couldn’t be further from my mind, I promise. Nothing but the cheapest locale for you.”

 

Of course he didn’t take the man to the rat infested place he promised him, but he did go for the one James favoured above all – it probably had something to do with how the women’s corsets were tied so tightly that their bosoms practically spilled in the plates they carried.

 

“This is where you and your James usually eat?” John poked at his food and glanced around, looking like he wanted to run away.

 

Alec felt the need to rest his hand on top of his, just to be sure that he wouldn’t bolt or anything like that and hated it when the man flinched. “Yes, cheap and good, like you wanted. What’s wrong?”

 

“It feels like I am intruding. Maybe we should go, I really don’t want to…”  
  
“You’re not intruding on anything. You’re actually annoying me for thinking like this.” He tapped John’s forehead. “Now eat before it gets cold.”

 

It did take a glass of wine to relax John – the only one for tonight, he promised – but the two were soon laughing as Alec shared his stories of James. And the younger man looked at him with sparkling eyes, eating up every one of his words, holding on to his arm which he tugged on when he asked for more stories.

 

The conversation continued even as the two walked out of the locale, a surprisingly cold breeze casing John to move closer to the slightly taller man, seeking out his body heat “Your James sounds wonderful,” John announced as soon as Alec’s house came into view. “I wish I could tell you about my James.”

 

Alec was more than happy to move his arm over John’s shoulders and pull him closer still, his warm breath brushing against his ear. “Wouldn’t it be just amusing if both your James and my James turned out to be one and the same?” It would certainly prove to Alec that the God priests kept shouting in his ears at unholy hours in the middle of winter did indeed exist and that he was really listening to what his creations asked of him.

 

John made a little noise in the back of his throat that Alec couldn’t quite place, stopping. “It would certainly made things a lot easier for me.” He shivered as he brushed his nose against Alec’s. When the older man didn’t move at all, John started to apologize and took a step back. “I’m sorry, I think I never could read things and hints right.”

 

But before he could move further away, Alec pulled him forward and captured his lips in a hungry kiss. John instantly wrapped his arms around Alec’s neck as Alec rubbed against him and pushed him against a wall of his house, fully enjoying the little moans he got out of the younger man.

 

When the kiss ended, John leaned his head against Alec’s shoulder, trying to catch his breath while the older man continued to nibble on his ear. “James…” The young man suddenly uttered and before Alec could correct him, he broke into a run. “James!” He yelled, heading towards a man that was wobbling out of a coach.

 

Alec hurried to stop his young friend, but wasn’t fast enough and was sure that John would get punched when he latched on to the man. “If you touch even a hair on his head, I will paint the town red in your blood.” Alec promised between pants, trying to grab the younger man and pull him away.

 

“Q, is that really you?” Alec’s James asked in a whisper, cupping John’s face with shaking hands as if he was afraid he would shatter and disappear.

 

The young man ran his fingers over James’ face, tracing every line and wrinkle, asking himself how it had been possible for him to ever forget how the man looked. “That feels like it’s the right thing to call me. Is that my name?” He asked in a whisper, James pulling him to his chest and hugging him tightly, twirling both of them.

 

Alec had never seen James show this much raw emotion. “Of course it is. You’re Q. My precious, smart, clever Q.” He covered the man’s face in kisses, running his hands through his curls and under his shirt, down his back.

 

When Alec realized that his older lover no longer realized that he was outside where everybody could see him and that Q did not care at all, he stepped in and separated the two, pulling Q behind him. “Couldn’t be happier that I was right in thinking he’s Q and that you are about to offer me a really hot show, but I really do not want to share it with everyone.” He nodded towards the couch driver who made no attempt to hide his disgusted look and Alec threw a few extra gold coins just to be sure he wouldn’t run his mouth off to the wrong people and get them sent to covenants to be purified.

 

“How are you here?” James asked once Alec guided the two inside the house, pulling Q down in his lap. “I don’t think any of the letters had this address.” Not allowing the young man to answer, he turned his attention to his other lover, frowning a bit. “Why didn’t you send word to me that you found him?”

 

Alec shrugged. “Hey, I sent letters for you to all the ports, detailing the little treasure I found floating on a barrel to the best of my abilities. Not my fault you were too bloody drunk to read them or remember M doing that for you.”

 

Placing a little kiss on Q’s forehead, he chuckled. “At least I now know why she manhandled me into that coach two days ago.” He breathed in Q’s smell and rubbed their heads together, licking and nibbling on his lips. “Still, how did you make it to Alec?”

 

“He saved me from drowning.” Q turned to look at the other man, shyly reaching out his hand to grab his. “Took me in, fed me, and gave me a job…”

 

Hands raised in the air, he turned his head away from James’ questioning eyes. “In my defence, I had no idea he was Q at first and he refused to accept anything for free, so I had to find a way to take care of him. But he is very good at what he’s doing, so Jo—Q, don’t think I kept you just because you are pleasing to the eye.” He didn’t expect to be pulled down by James and kiss, but he knew how to enjoy pleasant surprises. His kisses with James were hungry and needy, but lacked the subtle carefulness that James showed Q.

 

“Wait, what do you mean you had no idea he was Q?” James turned to look at the man in his lap, brow furrowed in confusion. “Why didn’t you tell him?”

 

Q was back to focusing on his fingers, cracking them and pulling on them – something he hadn’t done in weeks – clearly stressed. “I didn’t remember who I was. I still don’t. The doctors said I must have forgotten anything when I hit my head against something, the side of the ship, or a rock…” He pushed his hand against James’ face, looking distressed. “I think I lost something you gave me.”

 

His fingers were kissed, James pushing the hand under his shirt, over his heart. “A ring, but that doesn’t matter. We can make you a new one. Your memories are more important,” he muttered, watching Alec push Q’s hair away from his temples and frowning when he saw the permanent mark.

 

Alec placed a kiss on Q’s scar and bit James’ lips, licking his. “We’ll get them back and if they’re forever lost, we can make new ones. Now let’s go to bed so we can all get reacquainted or, in James’ case, sleep the alcohol off.” He sneaked an arm around Q’s shoulders and leaned against him, winking. “I promise to help you go to sleep if you are too excited to do that.” He moved away before he could be hit by any of his two lovers, looking towards the door. “Wait, where’s M?”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ummm, be warned that the ending has characters dying. But I promise it isn't in a painful or horrible way!
> 
> Thank you so much for all the kudos and comments and for sticking with this story until the end.
> 
> Please excuse any and all mistakes and enjoy <3

Alec couldn’t figure out which was more protective of Q during the first few months of all of them living happily together: Lady M or James. The woman followed him around as much as she could, holding his hand to make sure that she didn’t lose him in the crowds. But she was old and Q was lightning fast and if there was something that caught his eye, there was no possible way of stopping him from going directly to it and M disliked that greatly – she simply wouldn’t be able to forgive herself if she lost the young man again.

 

Yet James had the uncanny ability of appearing out of thin air whenever that happened, draping an arm around his young lover as he leaned close to hear everything about the thing that caught Q’s attention. Alec would have mocked the little sparkle in his eyes that appeared whenever Q talked excitedly about something, but he was in no position to do so because the same thing happened to him. It was pure magic, the way the world seemed to disappear around them the instant Q opened his mouth and focused his green eyes on them.

 

James was also struck with a sense of possessiveness over Q that Alec hadn’t seen in him even when Vesper was around. He couldn’t help but feel as if everyone around him wanted to steal Q from him, although that stopped when it came to Alec, blindly trusting the other man to keep their young lover safe and with them.

 

He did manage to control himself when it came to Q’s new friends, although Alec could easily hear the soft growl that came from him whenever someone draped themselves on their lover and it was almost impossible to miss his hard glare.

 

Actually, the first time they went out together, just a day after the two of them were reunited, Alec had to explain to James why almost everyone in the red district was fawning over Q, hugging him and asking him if he’d ‘do’ them next.

 

“I might have taken him to that special pub when I wasn’t sure what he was into or if he was our Q, but he completely missed what they wanted from him and ended up drawing everyone in there.” He couldn’t help the laughter that escaped from him the moment Q’s green eyes focused on James, the man instantly relaxing and all traces of his murderous intent disappearing from his face.

 

“Would you terribly mind if I go to the market tomorrow when things calm down at your company so I can buy some more charcoal and papers?” Q asked after making his way back to them, two ladies with more than generous cleavage hanging by his sides.

 

James smiled and patted his head, giving a small kiss which was clearly meant to show that Q was already taken and not interested in anything else except sketching – not that the young man was any more aware of what the people around him wanted than he had been the first time. “You haven’t changed a bit, love." He moved to nuzzle his neck, the women stepping away from him, giggling. "You still think that I would mind anything that would make you happy.”

 

The older man could learn to live with Q being worshiped by the people who dealt with offering carnal pleasure, but everyone else was considered an enemy. For example, if a customer of theirs look for too long at Q or made a passing remark about things would go faster if the young man paid special attention to them, James’ eyes would grow cold and deadly, veiled threats of bodily harm mixing together with promises of their business being ruined if they didn’t keep their distance from Q and apologize to him.

 

Alec himself was not impervious to such outbursts of possessiveness in front of some and he even had a much violent reaction, almost breaking one of their customer’s arms because he had dared to grab and pull Q in his lap when the young man had entered his office to bring them tea in hopes of making the deal go smoother. Of course, when James got the full story from Q who was shaking with anger and indignation over being treated in such a manner, he had to be stopped by M from going to murder the man who had dared to touch and scare him.

 

“Silva!” Q said suddenly, pushing away from James. “I remember a man named Silva who was just as disgusting as this one. We were in a huge castle and I was happy until he started to make his presence known.”

 

A horrible thing to remember, but it was still something and James couldn’t help but feel a bit happy. “Yes, there was a man named Silva who tried to take you from me.” He wrapped himself around the fuming man, nuzzling his neck. “But I took care of him, just like I’ll take care of this one.”

 

Lady M wasn’t too happy when she heard about the incident and not because her adoptive son had lost a potential client. She started to insist that Q walked around with a bunch of guards following him, worried that some of the people that James and Alec chased away might want revenge and Q was easily distracted if he did not have a list of things that were urgent.

 

James refused to agree to that. His opinion was that the only people who were capable of doing a decent job were him, M or Alec. They already knew Q’s habits and were patient with him, understanding that his need to suddenly stop and stare at something for minutes on end stemmed from the fact that Q was, after all, still a painter even if he didn’t remember it.

 

No, James was of the opinion that they should focus on bringing more competent doctors from other cities to look at Q and help him regain all of his memories and maybe do something for the sudden, powerful headaches he randomly got.

 

And because they all agreed that they weren’t satisfied with the sort of treatment the young man had received up until that point, one doctor actually grabbing his head and hit him against a wall before James grabbed him and beat him up – the man was of the opinion that if a bump caused the memory loss, than another one was bound to fix everything – M gave up her personal guard idea and sent for doctors.

 

Most of them were useless, telling them that the headaches were normal and that they should all be patient and wait for the memories to come back on their own. But there was that one doctor who claimed he had the answer they sought. Their hopes got dashed when he said that the only way Q would be cured of his memory problem was if they returned to the old continent. Alec threw him out of the house before Q’s nervous breakdown could escalate, the young man desperately tugging on James’ arm, pleading with him not to be put on a boat ever again.

 

“That’s never going to happen unless you specifically ask for it, love,” the man was whispering, wrapping his arms around him, covering his face in kisses. “I’m not making you get on a boat unless this bloody piece of land is sinking and that is the only way I can save you.”

 

It was ridiculous that Q thought they’d follow that advice. If they somehow managed to ignore how his screams and tears broke caused them actual physical pain to their hearts, there was still James’ own admitted paranoia over losing Q to the ocean to deal with.

 

And because the ocean was one of the things James had no control over as well as the fact that he had already lost someone he loved a lot to it, he had somehow reached the conclusion that the large stretch of water and its god – if there truly was a god that ruled over it – had something personal against him and sough to make him suffer.

 

It took them quite a while, but they finally found a doctor named Bill Tanner that they didn’t want to throttle at the mere sight of him and who also had high recommendations. The lack of murderous intent might have had also something to do with the fact that Q was relaxed when he the man was in the room, later admitting to M that he seemed to remind him of an equally kind man.

 

The doctor, however, was anything but relaxed. The way the woman looked at him, judging the way that he held his utensils and the way he touched his patient made him relieve the earlier years of his university, which was a very unpleasant feeling. Not to mention that his two employees looked at him as if they were expecting him to accidentally hurt their young _friend_.

 

He thought back to how things went during his first visit, to the way Q was sat in an armchair, his sides flanked by James and Alec. The doctor actually thought that he was in the presence of a royal prince and his royal guard, his strict mother silently watching the whole thing from the other side of the room. But by his fourth visit, he knew exactly what the young man was to the other two. Honestly, their real relationship was obvious even to a blind man.

 

Who caressed a friend’s face with such care that made even the most delicate and well cared for china jealous? Who kissed their friends earlobe when they thought that they weren’t seen by a stranger? And the way the young man looked at the two men, with such fondness and care? Newlyweds could learn a thing or two from him. If they were trying to hide it, they were doing a horrible job.

 

“His headaches have—“

 

“Mister Bond, please let the patient explain how he’s feeling.” If looks could kill, he’d be dead. “As I said during our previous two meetings, I am here for him, not for you. As such, I need to hear the symptoms from his lips, not yours.”

 

It felt a bit good to see his employer on the receiving end of a death glare, although the slim fingers that caressed his knuckles probably lessened the fear he was supposed to feel. “James, I lost my memory. Not my ability to explain how I feel. Or maybe you think that the hit to my head also made me stupid?”

 

A man like James struck the doctor as someone who never apologized, even – or rather especially – when he was to blame. And yet there he was, muttering an apology in the young man’s ear, trailing little kisses down his neck as the doctor suddenly found a need to look at Lady M and discuss the weather with her. It also surprised him that James stopped when he was asked, Q placing his hand on his shoulder to get his attention.

 

“My headaches have become bearable ever since I started drinking the tea you recommended, doctor,” Q said with a thankful smile, elbowing the other man in the ribs when he probably realized that he wouldn’t be able to control himself anymore if his neck kept getting sucked and nibbled on. It was amazing how they seemed to be wrapped around his finger and yet his patient seemed to be completely unaware of it.

 

An uncomfortable cough from the doctor stilled everyone, reminding them that they were supposedly really close friends. “I am pleased to hear that, but I also need to know if you still get bits of your memory back when the aches happen.”

 

And Q started to explain the things he remembered, head tilted to the side, thin hands moving in front of himself as if he were painting. His words meant nothing to the doctor, only interested if he still remembered things, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to stop him, mesmerised by the movement and also by the amount of love the two men held in their eyes as they watched him.

 

“You could try to do something that seems familiar to you, something that you _think_ you used to do back before the incident happened.”He smiled when he saw his face light up with joy when he realized what that was. “But!” And this time he focused on the two men, brows furrowing. “You two are not to tell him what to do or how to do things. If you do that, you might implant fake memories in his head or he might just go along with what you say for the sake of your –“He coughed, looking away, flinching when he saw how the woman was looking at him, daring him to say the wrong thing.”– friendship.”

 

Lady M took over the conversation after that, guiding the man out of the house and pushing a little pouch full of coins that was mean to buy his silence. “Know that I will have your head if I hear ill words directed at anyone from my family, Doctor Tanner,” she threatened, enjoying seeing the man shiver under her gaze.

 

It took him a moment, but Doctor Tanner managed to subdue his fear and grabbed the woman’s hand, giving her back the money. “I have already been paid for my services by Mister Bond, Lady M. I am also not interested in the personal lives of my employers unless they directly affect the states of my patients in a bad way.” He glanced at the three men, smiling. “And in this case, I see nothing wrong.”

 

As soon as the doctor left, Q almost ran to the market, Alec and James close behind him, and bought a multitude of colours, brushes and canvases. Yet, when he sat himself down, he was disappointed to find that all he could pain as things that had attracted him while on the market and nothing of his former life.

 

“Don’t force yourself, love. It will come to you,” James said, rubbing his back and kissing his neck.

 

But he couldn’t really follow that advice, frustrated that nothing was coming to him in terms of memories. And then suddenly, one night, it came to him along with a horrible headache that almost made him scream in pain. He bit his lips and waited for it to go away so he could go back to sleep, until he realized that the images that got stuck in his mind wouldn’t go away and that they were bits his memories.

 

He listened to make sure that his two lovers were still asleep before he freed himself from their loving and protecting grasps, giving them butterfly kisses before mentally congratulation himself for doing so without waking them up.

 

But as soon as he closed the door behind him, both Alec and James opened their eyes, chuckling that Q was still completely in the dark about how his touches and kisses did things to their bodies that could raise them from death.

 

Well, they were going to fix that as soon as he returned from relieving himself, since going back to sleep on his own was not exactly easy for their young lover and they didn’t know of any better and pleasanter way to help him. But when thirty minutes passed and he hadn’t returned, Alec looked outside and so that no one was in the courtyard. They talked in harsh whispers, arguing over what they should do next, Alec saying that they should wait while James insisted on going to look for him.

 

By some miracle, Alec won, although as the hours went by, he was starting to regret it. Every noise was amplified and more than once, they had both jumped out of bed, thinking that they had heard Q being attacked, only to turn out to be dogs running free around the city in the middle of the night.

 

Their wait was over when they heard the door give out a tiny squeak close to sunrise. Q stalked close to the bed and watched them for a moment, sighing in relief when he thought they were still sleeping. He tiredly rub his eyes, continuing to do his best not to bump into anything or make any sort of noise as he crawled into bed. He was also shivering, obviously freshly washed in freezing cold water and it was a pure miracle that his teeth weren’t chattering.

 

Their initial instincts had been to form a cocoon around him and start rubbing his back and arms until his body temperature was back to normal, but they waited for Q to make the first move just in case he was suddenly feeling overwhelmed by how much attention he was being given - because even they were aware that they were overdoing it.

 

“Q, love, why are you cold? Did anything happen?” James muttered in a fake sleepy voice, unable to hold back the sight on content when the man snuggled closer to him, kissing his collarbone.

 

“I woke up and couldn’t go back to sleep. I thought a breath of fresh air might do me good, but I am afraid I lost track of time and there is a small chill in the night’s air,” he lied easily, yawning. “I am sorry for waking you; I tried to be as quiet as a mouse.”

 

Alec moved closer, blowing warm air against Q’s back, catching James’ eyes. His hair was damp and he smelled like soap, but if Q insisted on acting like he hadn’t washed himself then they weren’t going to say anything. “You put a mouse to shame, do not worry.” The man muttered softly, hugging him tightly. Why was he keeping things from them? “Do you mind if we join you the next time this happens? We’ll keep you warm, I promise.”

 

It was very clear that he was extremely tired, almost instantly falling asleep when his head touched the pillow and although he did smell like paint, the men were unable to put two and two together. In the state of anxiety they had brought each other, they did not even notice the way Q made sure he was right up against them, gluing his back to James’ front and tugging on Alec until the man was right up against his chest.

 

Alec had wanted to ask Q about that the instant he woke up, but James managed to convince him to wait a couple more nights and see if that night had been a single incident or if the young man would make a habit out of it. But sadly, they were terrified to see that it was exactly what happened.

 

Night after night James and Alec pretended to be asleep as they listened to Q sneaking away from them. They had tried to follow him and see what he was doing, but the young man caught on and instantly headed for the kitchen and silently starting to nibble on whatever leftovers he could find.

 

A week later and both men decided that they had enough of this unpleasant mystery. It wasn’t funny or cute; it was worrying. And they planned on sitting him down and talking about what was going on the second he stirred from their little nest. But that night, Q slept soundly between them, back glued to James’ front and face hidden in Alec’s chest.

 

He looked just too peaceful when he slept for them to find it within them to wake him up and the day had been an exhausting one, Q running around two to deal with things while Alec and James wrote letters until their hands hurt. The conversation could wait until morning.

 

Q was the first to wake up and muttered about needing to go to the bathroom, his lovers falling back to sleep after the door was closed. By the time M woke them up, white as a ghost and shivering from the illness that had struck her suddenly pushing, it was already midday.

 

“There was yet another mix-up with an important order and he went to see if he could fix it,” the woman explained, giving James a sloppily scribbled letter from Q. He was a divine painter, but somehow, the art of cursive writing escaped him completely. “The servants told me that Q had been intercepted by a messenger and he asked them if they could let all of us sleep.”

 

James crumbeled the piece of paper that explained everything, rubbing his face. “He wants to run away,” was the only conclusion he was capable to reach, although that sounded extremely stupid to M.

 

However, to Alec, it sounded plausible. He thought that they had been a bit too clingy and insistent with him getting recovering his memories, ending up making him feel trapped and obligated to start acting in a certain way. Though he did admit to himself that his logic had a flaw, since Q still cuddled with them, held them tightly, was happy to be kissed and kiss back, and also initiated some of their trysts.

 

“He probably fell from someone at that bar which he sneaks into our house when he thinks we’re asleep and he now wants to run away with him.” James continued to say and at this, Alec couldn’t agree with. In fact, that had been such an incredibly big leap in logic that Alec was surprised James didn’t get whiplash.

 

M almost chocked on her tea. “That’s something you would do, not Q. No, let me rephrase that: that’s something you already did.” She grabbed his ear and kept him from leaving the room, wanting to point out that if Q really was doing that, James had it coming. “And both times you did that, it was on the night before the bloody weddings. Although I think the second sister was more offended because you chose the stable boy over her.”

 

Alec couldn’t help his laughter, remembering that James left the stable boy for him. He also remembered how Lady M walked in on them and started scolding James for not telling her about his plans beforehand so she could have time to lessen the blow to the family, not carrying that they were both naked.

 

“Let’s just stick with our original plan and simply talk with him, James.” It really bothered him that the lack of sleep affected James so much that every bloody ridiculous idea sounded right. “I do agree with what M said since it’s Q who we’re talking about and I am sure you’ll end up on your knees, apologizing to him.”

 

They reached their company in record time, James jumping out of the carriage even before it came to a full stop. He bursted through the doors and almost bumped into a massive man who carrying a large box and looking more than upset because he was being chewed on.

 

“We’re professionals, Mister McGee. Yesterday’s muck up was also because of your inability to read which we offered to fix for you,” Q was saying, not having spotted James yet. “And if you refuse how to properly do that and this happens again, make no mistake that you will find yourself working for a company in which these things happen daily.”

 

That seemed to set him off and, after thrusting the box in James’ arms, turned to tower over the thin man. “I take orders from Mister Bond and Mister Trevelyan, not their pathetic bed warmer.” He started to pull up his sleeves, cracking his knuckles. “And none of those misters are here so the bed warmer—“

 

“Is the one you answer to,” Alec finished for him, grabbing his shoulder and turning him around, punching him right in the nose. “And you do not address your superior in such a manner even if he’s a lot of years younger than you, has valid points and didn’t treat you horribly at all.”

 

James dropped the box – internally cringing when he heard something shattering – and grabbed the man’s fist before he could hit Alec back and socked him again. Before an actual fight broke out, Q rounded up a few other sturdy workers and had them hold his lovers back from beating the now ex-employee up as well as help him push the disrespectful man out of the building.

 

“I’m not sure we can charge him for breaking what was in there since it was James who actually dropped it and we do pride ourselves with being fair,” the young man muttered, massaging his temples. “At least they were the cheaper ones.” He turned to smile reassuringly at James and Alec, only for his smile to suddenly disappear when he saw with how much seriousness he was being watched.

 

James sighed, shrugging the men off of himself and ordering them to go back to work. “Q, we need to talk about something really important.”

 

Alec took his hand and led him to their office, sitting him down opposite of him with James by his side. Q didn’t like this at all and his head was starting to hurt, the room suddenly looking and feeling smaller, lacking air. The men noticed how distressed Q was and moved to sit next to him, Alec caressing his face and James rubbing his hands.

 

Not knowing how to start a conversation like this – since really, the two never thought it possible for either of them to have one – James decided to go for the direct approach. “Q, do you want to leave us?”

 

Q blinked, releasing his hands so he could check if his lover was running a fever, brows furrowed in worry. “Your temperature is normal, but Lady M was—“

 

“I am not sick, I am worried,” James interrupted him, grabbing his hands and bringing them to his chest. “I love you, you know that, right? We love you and you’re worrying us.”

 

Alec cupped Q’s chin and turned his head to look at him. “You’ve been sneaking out of bed for a week and we want to know why. Are we too pushy? Are we making you feel like you have no space for yourself? You can sleep in your room when you want to, you don’t have to hide your discomfort from us.”

 

“What? No, no, sorry you got it all wrong.” At least the headache came to a sudden stop even though it seemed like he had gotten out of the frying pan and into the fire with the whole misunderstanding. “I’m sorry for worrying you, but I really thought you were asleep and I wanted to surprise you when everything came back to me.” He tapped his head, smiling. “I’m simply painting, not running away from you. I was even washing because I didn’t want the strong paint smell to wake you up.”

 

Alec instantly started to laugh, pointing at James. He was right and he so loved it when that happened if only because that was kind of rare. He wanted to tell the other man to fall on his knees and start crawling towards their lover, but James was dead set on ruining his fun because he was already doing just that.

 

“Someone jumped on the paranoia horse and thought you were skipping town with some unknown person,” Alec wheeze out between laughter, dodging the shoe that James threw at his head as he kissed the tips of Q’s fingers, nuzzling his stomach as the young man looked at him in a mix between confusion and regret.

 

“You really thought I was going to leave you?” Q asked as he kneeled next to James, cupping his face. “I really just wanted to surprise you.”

 

They went home instantly after that and Q showed him the room full of paintings of people that he couldn’t remember their names, but knew they were at least acquainted. James couldn’t help but name everyone, running his fingers over the works that were dry, Alec bringing the box of letters he had from them. He let Q read them and the man was soon laughing, adding more details to the stories and looking at James for confirmation that it was indeed how things went.

 

Lady M was still a bit on the edge, but calmed down when she heard Q asking Alec and James if it was okay for him to fully move in their room with them and turn his old room into a studio. He was cute when he did that, face red, staggering and forcing himself not to look away from them as he kept pushing a strand of hair away from his eyes.

 

Of course the men were more than happy to hear that and they had hired so many workers that Q had a studio in less than a week. They actually ended up uniting two rooms to give him more space as well as adding larger windows because they saw a lot of paintings and sketches of the inner garden at James’ castle.

 

They let Q decide what sort of furniture he wanted, but he said he was happy with a simple chair and nothing else. But two weeks later, he also asked for a bed, since James and Alec always ended up sitting on the floor behind him to watch him paint and rubs his bare back or cover it in kisses when his work took a more erotic turn.

 

However, that wasn’t the reason why the bed was also bought. Q was used to sleeping on the hard ground and didn’t bother him all that much and both men were happy to sleep anywhere if the young man was between them. No, the main reason was because Alec had managed to get a splinter in his backside. James also called the workers back and had them redo the floors, Lady M supervising them this time to be sure that no steps were skipped and that the job was properly done.

 

“I’ll test the smoothness of these floors with your faces.” It didn’t matter that every man in the room towered over her; they still feared her.

 

Meanwhile, Q was trying to get the splinter out with little success. “Alec, I’m going to have to send for Doctor Tanner to deal with this because it’s already swelling and becoming redder.” He didn’t even touch the red area and Alec was already cursing, pushing his head against Q’s stomach. “And don’t you dare say that I’m exaggerating.”

 

Doctor Tanner did his best to act like a professional even though the grown man had whimpered and whined throughout the easy procedure – however, he might have been exaggerating to get more attention from Q, since when the young man’s lips were on his, he didn’t seem to feel pain.

 

Then the studio got more chairs because Q suddenly found himself with a few students who wished to learn from him. He felt bad that he had to stop helping his lovers, but the two had been more than understanding and they did agree to hire someone new only if Q personally agreed to it.

 

His replacement ended up being a Miss Eve Moneypenny, a woman who was almost as strong as Lady M – which was probably why the two instantly bounded over their complaints about how Alec and James were complete slobs and how it was a wonder the company was successful. Eve’s complaints only increased when the two men took Q with them on a trip around the new continent that lasted a year.

 

Q eventually remembered who Mildred and Major Boothroyd, but it would take Q years to fully remember more than his life with James before meeting Alec and by that time, he had so many new memories of both of them that he didn’t much care for anything else. Some of them upset the two, the ones where he admitted he went to bed hungry and cold always resulting in him being wrapped in a blanket, sat in one of their laps while the other fed him.

 

He also managed to get over his fear of boat trips over the ocean, although the first time they travelled to an island that Missy wanted to get married on because it was where her future husband was born, James and Alec made sure that he was more than distracted and hardly left their room.

 

When James’ and Alec’s eyesight started to go back, they named Eve and her children as their official heirs and gave them the company, staying home to mostly watch Q teach the multitude of students he had. And when Q’s eyesight started to leave him, he named his favourite student as the new master and all three of them decided that it was time to return to the original Skyfall.

 

This time, the trip had been without incident and the three men mostly sat on the deck, playing cards and enjoying the fine food and wine. They were greeted by Missy’s children – who James had adopted and gave them the Bond name so the lands and titles wouldn’t be lost after M died – and shown around the village that had bloomed into an outright city.

 

The garden Q painted so much only became more beautiful and that was where the three loved spending most of their time, lounging on comfortable chairs that the Major that designed when his own back and legs started to betray him.

 

“I am happy that we came back here,” Q whispered as he watched the sun going down, smiling softly when the felt Alec and James resting their hands on top of his. The two had promised that they wouldn’t leave him alone and that they would go together, and although that sounded ridiculous since Q was much younger than them, so far they had managed to keep their word.

 

“We’d be happy sitting in that poor excuse of a house James found you in if you were with us,” Alec admitted, taking a bit longer to stretch over to Q and place a sloppy kiss on his cheek. Just because they were old didn’t mean their affection for each other had diminished.

 

“Wonder what they built over it. What do you say to going over there?” James asked, pushing his pair of glasses back on his nose to get a good look at Q’s face.

 

“Just let me stay here awhile longer, okay? I can’t seem to get my legs to move.” Q had been feeling tired for weeks now and his body was suddenly as heavy as led. “Actually, I feel as if I am going to take a short nap. But don’t let me sleep for too long, okay? I don’t want to stay up all night again.” He didn’t hear their answers, but felt them lightly squeezing his hands, vaguely wondering when it had started to rain. The kind major Boothroyd was just as confused as he was, but still asked him to come further into the garden, where the sun was brighter.

 

“They’ll join us soon enough, I promise,” the major assured him, pulling him up. “You know how hard it is for James to hold back from Lady M's cookies and Alec is lost without you two."

 

 


End file.
